Oh, Pioneers
by nrebecca
Summary: Something was different about these memories; they became tangible and he knew they wouldn't rust with the strain of time... Updated 8/13: COMPLETE
1. Prologue

Prologue

Simply put, memory was a funny thing.

To Richard, it was usually nothing more than a fickle bitch.

To a person in his condition - and truthfully, he knew of no one else in existence with the same predicament – memories were something of a mild comfort. As everyone he once knew had slowly begun to die off, and as new recruits took their place, memory seemed to prevail as his only ally in uncertain times. Jacob, of course, knew what he was going through, but only to an extent. For unlike Richard, Jacob didn't have memories of a personal nature, or any passing acquaintances to mourn. He had simply always existed here…he had no previous life to miss.

But Richard found that with time, his earliest, deepest memories began to slowly fade. They still existed, but ended up pushed back into a darker and dustier corner of his mind. Even memories of those who had been most important to him at one time. His mother, father, siblings. At most times, unless he stopped to really consider it, he couldn't even remember their names.

As time drew on in a never-ending line, recollection began to reshape itself for Richard. It was no longer a comfort or even a friend. It was just another human faculty that had ultimately failed him. He was used to rejecting human nature.

But then she was born, and he fell in love with memory again. He welcomed his ability to be present for so many important moments of her life, in one way or another, and he relished in the opportunity to recall them so vividly. Something was different about these memories; they became tangible and he knew they wouldn't rust with the strain of time.

"_But she will,"_ Jacob took every opportunity to remind him. _"I've given you something special, Richard. It cannot be replicated. Do not take it for granted."_

Richard didn't take anything Jacob had given him for granted. He knew better.

But this…this was going to be hard.

_O you youths, Western youths,  
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,  
Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,  
Pioneers! O pioneers!_

_Have the elder races halted?  
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?  
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,  
Pioneers! O pioneers!_

Walt Whitman, "O Pioneers!"


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** All recognizable characters and settings belong to Lost and it's writers/producers/creators.

This is an OC story and it will start slow. Eventually, we're probably going to run into the Mary Sue issue, and I welcome it. I have no qualms with Mary Sues; in fact, I quite enjoy writing them! You've been forewarned.

__

Chapter One: "Dedicated"

John Hawthorne IV was nothing if not a dedicated worker. Those who knew him or saw him work would attest to that. He took nothing for granted and worked hard to support and provide for his family. His great grandfather, also named John Hawthorne, had served in the Civil War. His grandfather, John Hawthorne II, served in World War I. His father, John Hawthorne III, in World War II.

When it was his turn, John enlisted at age 17, a year early at the insistence of his father. He fought in the Korean War and would have gone on to Vietnam had it not been for an injury thanks to the unwitting mistake of an unprepared sergeant. To this day, he walked with a limp thanks to an imbedded chunk of shrapnel in his left kneecap. He was honorably discharged from the United States Army in 1955 at age 20, in time to meet his wife, fifteen-year-old Miriam Wisnowski, in his hometown of Corvallis, Oregon. They married as soon as she turned 18.

Ever since his injury and discharge from the service, John Hawthorne harbored an extreme distrust of authority.

All of this information Richard reviewed from an open file folder on his lap as he sat, concealed in the outskirts of the jungle, and watched the subjects in question file off the submarine and down the dock. The stack of photo-copied applications and background reviews was at least 2 inches thick to accommodate the 23 new Dharma recruits. Hawthorne's was on top, alphabetically, because the Dharma Initiative did everything by the book. Richard knew without having to check that Hawthorne and his wife would be the first off the sub, because even that was done alphabetically. He didn't see the point, personally.

Richard picked up his binoculars, focusing them on the dock and locating Hawthorne instantly. He was clearly a military man, from his close-cropped hair down to his starched khakis. He was trying to conceal his limp, but it was easily noticeable to a trained eye. His heavily pregnant wife walked beside him, her face trained downward to the dock. Richard quickly scanned the rest of the recruits before setting down his binoculars and returning to where he'd left off in Hawthorne's file.

His wife, Miriam, gave birth to a son to continue the legacy of John Hawthornes. Born December, 1965, and died seven years ago. Richard briefly acknowledged the undoubted despair of the situation, but could not ignore the fact that the boy shared a birthday with Ben Linus.

While living in Portland, John and his wife were caught in a whirlwind of insurgent Dharma promotion and recruitment. A large number of staff and families had been sent away prior to (or killed by) the incident in 1977, and the efforts to bring in new members had increased greatly in the past two years. According to the paperwork, John Hawthorne attended a Dharma information session and signed on as a new recruit two days later. His placement and psychological results were good, however, his appointment appeared to be as a work man. His wife's test results were considerably high, and Richard earmarked them for later. As the Dharma Initiative approached a new era, so did the island, and recruitment was needed everywhere.

"Richard."

Ben had appeared almost completely silently; he was getting better. Richard had still heard his approach about 50 feet off, however.

"Ben, hello." He acknowledged the boy with a smile and picked up his binoculars again. The new recruits had almost completely filed off the dock and into the Dharma grounds, leaving only submarine engineers and deckhands behind.

"I guess you're finding the information I got helpful?" Ben refrained from sitting down with Richard, instead remaining standing, his fist clenched over the strap the messenger bag he carried everywhere.

"I am, Ben. Thank you." Ben only nodded stiffly. Only 14 years old and Ben Linus had already started to tie himself just a little too tightly. Richard understood his discomfort in leading a double life – living with his father and the rest of the Dharma Initiative while sneaking out to join Richard and the rest of the Hostiles late at night, to share information and congregate with those he considered his real "people". Richard knew he couldn't wait to abandon the life he loathed, but it was his job to keep reminding the boy to be patient. They had much to accomplish in time.

"I need to go soon," Ben pointed out, glancing over his shoulder down towards the Dharma territory. "I have to be at the dinner for new recruits or my dad will notice. Everyone has to go."

"Of course," Richard acknowledged. "Thank you again, Ben."

"I was wondering if…" Ben shifted uncomfortably. "If you found anyone I should…talk to. Yet."

Richard glanced down at the Hawthornes' file in his lap. "Not quite. I haven't had much time to look things over." He looked up at Ben, anxious but clearly trying to conceal it beneath a serious-faced façade. "The best thing you can do right now, Ben, is exactly what you're doing. Keep a low-profile, do as you're told, and keep providing information. It doesn't look as if this new wave has any kids your age that you can observe, but…we'll keep holding out. Don't lose focus."

Ben looked disheartened. "I'm still doing my studies at home. Since there's not really any kids left, there's no reason to have school every day, they said." He shrugged. "I don't really care."

Richard knew he really did care – it showed in his face, his constitution. Ben was more or less miserable.

"You'd better go now, Ben." Muted strains of music in the distance floated up the incline, and Ben looked over his shoulder again.

"Okay." Richard closed the file in his lap as the boy walked away without another word. He watched until Ben's movement became undetectable amongst the trees, then stood. It was time to go report his findings to Charles. Ever since Eloise had left the island, less than a year ago, Charles had developed a mild inferiority complex, and the power of sole leadership had apparently begun to go to his head. Richard did not look forward to dealing with him.

As he walked back towards camp, he glanced down at the folder in his hands again, falling open to reveal Hawthorne's information once again. Richard recalled his view of the dock, the gruff looking, cleanly pressed man with the as yet faceless, perhaps forlorn companion. Her baby would be due soon, and something would have to be done about that. He just wasn't sure what yet.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: ** Um, I'm not really much of a beggar, but…if someone is reading this…can you guys review? Or does this really suck that bad?

Chapter Two: "Redeemed"

The day Miriam Hawthorne went into labor, Richard was already expecting it.

He and Charles had sat by the fire and calculated out the due date. That, with updates from Ben, kept them entirely educated on the situation. Almost too educated, it seemed.

"_They'll take her to the medical facility,"_ Charles had said. _"I want you there."_

Richard had questioned why he was required to attend when they had so many others available, but gave up quickly. Charles was insistent.

"_Just wait for information, I don't care how you get it, I just want it. You made the call to bring Benjamin to join us when he was barely a teenager, and it was a good one."_

"_You expect me to make a similar call about a newborn baby?_" Richard had questioned. _"Ben approached _me_, or I wouldn't have asked Jacob about him at all." _

But Charles wouldn't take no for an answer. He had somehow gotten it into his head that the Hawthorne baby was of some kind of importance. Even after closely reviewing every new recruit in the file, the only one Charles seemed to concentrate on was the pregnant Hawthorne woman. At first, Richard assumed it was because of her stellar aptitude tests and nursing certifications, but as her due date began to approach, he saw that he was mistaken. Charles wanted the child.

"_I know you're upset about Ellie leaving_," Richard had tried one evening, two days before Miriam Hawthorne was scheduled to deliver. _"And I know you want to see your son. But snatching a baby out of its parents arms the hour of its birth is not the kind of move Jacob would want us to make, and you know that." _

"_You think _that's_ what this is about?" _Charles had snapped. _"Give me the benefit of the doubt, Richard. If all I wanted was a son, I'd be gone by now. You're not the only one who represents the island's will."_

But Richard sometimes felt that he was. Regardless, he held a responsibility to Jacob, if no one else, to follow orders from Widmore, even when he didn't want to. So on the morning of January 20th, 1980, when Ben ran into the camp, Richard was ready.

"It's the Hawthorne woman," Ben sputtered, barely able to get a word out past his heaving breaths. "They've…already taken her….to the Staff. If we hurry, we can—"

"No need, Ben," Richard announced, standing as he emptied his tin cup and striding towards his tent. "Charles would like me to go alone."

"What? But…why?" Ben's standard disheartened look returned. "I ran all the way here…from the Barracks, I…"

"You've done your job," Richard pointed out, collecting his things. "Thank you, Ben."

But Ben wasn't done.

"Ugh, damn it!" He kicked over a stray hot water pitcher, sending a streak of boiling water and metal all the way across camp. "That's _always_ what you say! 'Your job is done, Ben. Thank you, Ben. Keep doing what you're doing, Ben. Just lay low, Ben.' Well, I'm freaking _tired_ of it!"

Everyone in the camp had stopped what they were doing to watch the teenager's temper tantrum by the fire. Richard remained motionless, anxious to get moving but knowing that this situation needed to manifest itself nonetheless.

"I want to _do_ something," Ben continued, voice escalating all the while. "Really do something, not just steal paperwork and make copies. Not just hang out and _observe_ all the time. I want to be important, I want to get something done!"

The last part of Ben's tirade seemed to echo all through the jungle, and Richard winced. He was about to begin talking Ben down when someone beat him to it.

"He's right, Richard."

Charles strode into camp, gun slung over his shoulder. He was flanked by two other men, Finley and Hutchinson, and looked smug as ever. "Our Ben should get to accompany us on at least some death defying missions, don't you think?"

Ben's expression went from indignant to sheepish almost instantly. Charles had a knack of doing that to most people – making even their most passionate desires seem to be nothing more than childish dreams.

"Go on, then," Charles continued, motioning Ben towards Richard as he picked up a canteen and began to drink. Ben looked at Richard, unsure but hopeful. Richard shrugged one shoulder noncommittally and Ben took that for a yes, nearly running to his side. Richard kept his eyes on Charles, waiting until he was done gulping water to speak.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he announced, loud enough only for Ben, Charles, and his accompanying men to hear.

Charles only smiled.

Ben was thankfully silent on the journey, and they arrived at the Staff in time to see a team of Dharma medical personnel pull up in a blue van and unload the Hawthorne woman.

"She doesn't look so good," Ben remarked over Richard's shoulder as the two hovered in the cover of the jungle. Richard didn't speak but soundlessly agreed – Miriam Hawthorne looked to be on the edge of death. Her countenance was pale and strained, her breathing seemed labored, as if she had just finished running a marathon. The evidence of her pregnancy was so strained and stretched across her abdomen that it looked unhealthy; Richard couldn't quite believe she had made it all the way here without giving birth in the tiny van.

"They said she's overdue," Ben reported, still hovering behind him. "She was supposed to have the baby at the end of December, I guess."

Richard didn't know a lot about childbirth, but he knew enough that a baby born after 42 weeks held increased risk, for itself and the mother. Charles hadn't accounted for this.

Ben and Richard waited in the jungle for what seemed like hours. At one point, another Dharma van arrived, barreling down the dirt road leading to the Staff with mounting speed. Upon arrival, Richard recognized John Hawthorne bounding out of the passenger seat before the vehicle had come to a full stop. A nurse met him at the door and his hollering could be heard even after the door closed behind him: _"Did I miss it? Am I late? Did I miss it?" _

Hours continued to pass, and Ben eventually fell asleep. Taking advantage of the alone time, Richard thought. Thought about Jacob, about Charles, about the island. He thought about Ben, about John Hawthorne, a man he had never met yet knew everything about, and the unknown baby.

Though all signs pointed to Ben being appointed as the next leader, Charles seemed unwilling to accept this fact. Even though he admitted Ben had been an asset in the previous couple years, Richard would not put it past Charles to try and orchestrate another outcome. Before Eloise had left the island with Daniel, Richard had been sure he was going to try and pass the torch to his infant son. Apparently Ellie had been as well, or she wouldn't have made the decision to leave. Now Charles held interest in this unknown baby, a child of importance, he thought. Richard only took orders from Jacob; he left nothing up to chance. But Charles had always been more concerned with taking matters into his own hands.

Lost in his thoughts, Richard almost didn't notice the commotion a couple hundred feet away, as the metal doors to the Staff opened and a number of people filed out, talking animatedly. Thankfully, the noise stirred Ben, who sat up and muttered, "finally", breaking Richard's reverie.

Richard snapped to attention, pushing away from the tree he'd been sitting against, and crept up next to Ben to get a better view. Doctors, nurses, and white-clad Dharma medical staff crowded the entrance and he silently urged them to get out of the way. Eventually, a wheelchair came into view and the crowd parted as Miriam Hawthorne was gingerly pushed outside. She looked considerably more healthy and alert, but still exhausted. Her arms were empty.

"Where's the baby?" Ben whispered, voicing Richard's silent thought. Suddenly, John Hawthorne came into view, holding a tightly wrapped bundle in his arms.

The oohs and aahs of the medical workers were audible even from their distanced location, and Richard found himself craning his neck to hear anything, comments that may tip off any information he could bring back to Charles.

"We need to get closer," Ben announced, and, without waiting for Richard, took off.

"Ben, wait," Richard hissed, but it was too late. All he had left to do was follow. Thankfully, the day had droned on so slowly that they were now aided by the cover of shadow as twilight began to set over the jungle. Ben was more surefooted and clandestine than Richard had ever seen him before, so he took the cue to follow, staying concealed rather easily in Ben's path. Soon, they were close enough to reach out and touch one of the Dharma vans, hidden by a fallen tree and the overgrowth of the jungle. Conversation was more audible from here but still jumbled, and Richard strained to pick out and remember anything notable.

"…close call. I was surprised that…"

"…certainly had someone watching out for…"

"…completely terrifying, but…"

Richard quickly deduced that the birth had been a rough one, but now all he seemed to want to know was the one thing that no one was discussing. Again, Ben vocalized his thoughts in a barely audible whisper.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Richard shook his head. He couldn't even see the baby from where he was, or either Hawthorne parent. Their only view was of moving feet on the other side of the van.

Suddenly, the van in front of them rumbled to life and began to pull away, making their hiding place slightly more revealing. Richard pressed his body to the ground, pushing forward at the same time, the top of his head scraping the bottom of the fallen tree. He felt Ben shift as well as the van departed, leaving an unrestricted view of the remaining van and the small crowd around it.

Miriam Hawthorne was being carefully lifted out of her wheelchair and into the backseat of the van, her husband standing nearby, apparently still holding the baby with his back turned towards the fallen tree. Richard trained his eyes on Miriam – it was dark, but even from where he lay, he could see the anxiety showing through her exhaustion. She began to speak to one of the nurses and Richard closed his eyes, straining to hear her weak, quiet voice.

"Can I…can you give her to me? My baby?"

Ben must have heard at the same time, because his murmur of "it's a girl" was the next thing to hit Richard's ears. He shushed his young companion and waited for the response.

"…sure you're well enough to hold on to her, Mrs. Hawthorne? It's a bumpy ride back to the Barracks, and—"

"Please, let me hold my daughter," Miriam insisted, her voice breaking through weakness and more into insistence. John Hawthorne's voice broke through next, sounding authoritative and stern.

"She will hold her tightly," he announced, and Richard opened his eyes in time to see the baby change hands, from John's unyielding arms to Miriam's eager grip. He watched as Miriam's eyes widened and began to glisten as she held her daughter closely. John Hawthorne climbed into the passenger seat as the remaining staff began to load up. The last Dharma nurse climbed inside and began to slide the door closed, but not before Richard saw Miriam mouth 'Caroline' just as the door shut.

The van drove off, leaving the surrounding jungle in silence once more, and Richard realized he wasn't breathing. He gulped in a breath of balmy air and exhaled it slowly, the name still stuck in his mind.

"Richard?"

He glanced up to see that Ben had already vacated their hiding spot and was holding out a hand to help him up. Richard didn't need it, but he took the boy's hand anyway, brushing dirt and leaves off the front of his button up shirt.

"So…it's a girl," Ben said, shrugging. "Is that what Charles expected?"

Richard shook his head. "All Charles expects is for us to get back to camp and tell him what we know. Come on." He clapped Ben on the shoulder and pushed him ahead on the walk back to camp. Inwardly, though he didn't want to admit it to Ben, Richard knew that the last thing Charles had been expecting was a baby girl.

A baby girl named Caroline.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: ** Hey, I have an idea. If you're one of the 50+ people who've read this story, and you like it, why don't you review, and tell me so?

Chapter Three: "Remains"

"I can't change my shift, John. I've already adjusted the schedule three times this month alone. That's too much."

"Well, what do you expect me to do? Stay home?"

Miriam sighed as she watched her husband shuffle around the living room of their small house in the barracks. "Maybe I do."

John stopped shoveling papers into his briefcase and turned to frown at his wife. "You've got to be kidding me." Miriam stiffened her resolve.

"What? Like what you do here is more important than what I do here? You think you're actually making a change?"

John threw his briefcase to the ground and approached his wife, index finger extended as he pointed at her. Miriam tried not to flinch.

"For Christ's sake, Miriam, I _am_ making a change. Instead of sitting around on my ass all day, I'm going to work and fighting back against these Goddamn hostiles trying to infiltrate this camp." John took another step towards her and Miriam stepped back, bumping into the dining room table. "Horace promoted me for a reason, because he saw something in me that you apparently don't see. I can _help_ here, I can _do_ something."

Miriam closed her eyes and rubbed her temples; her head was killing her. "This isn't Vietnam, John. It's an island. You're not a soldier anymore."

John pulled back his arm and Miriam flinched, steadying herself for a slap, but nothing came. She opened her eyes and he was picking up his briefcase again, muscles tense.

"Call Roger," he said, opening up the front door. "He's got a teenage son."

The door to the house slammed so hard that Miriam was afraid it may break in half. She swallowed and used a hand on the back of the chair behind her to steady herself.

_Just take a breath_, she willed silently. _Take a breath and don't cry._ _Don't cry._

Before the tears could come, Caroline's voice broke into Miriam's thoughts.

"Mom?" Her eyes opened to see her 4-year-old daughter standing in the hallway, holding her favorite coloring book. "Daddy's mad?"

"He just had to go to work, baby." Miriam forced herself to move back into the routine, gliding effortlessly into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. "Go wash your hands for dinner."

"Okay." Caroline disappeared down the hall only to reappear a few moments later as Miriam set a plate of chicken nuggets, green beans, and mashed potatoes in front of her at the table. "Are you eating, Mommy?"

Miriam looked down at Caroline, her wide green eyes set off by her dark hair. Her father's eyes, only sweeter. "No, honey. Mommy already ate."

"Want to pray with me?" Caroline asked, as if this were the most natural thing to do. In reality, Miriam could not remember the last time her family sat down to dinner all together, and prayer had never been a tradition. Caroline must have picked it up somewhere, maybe from her Dharma kindergarten tutor, Jillian.

"Of course, baby." Miriam allowed her daughter to grab onto her larger hand with her own smaller one, but instead of praying with her, she took the time to study her little girl. Although she was very sweet and outgoing (there was no one in the Dharma barracks that had not come to know and love her dearly), Miriam worried about Caroline. No other members of the program had young children; few had any children at all. There were a few older teenagers, like Roger Linus' boy, and Miriam knew that the majority of them were schooled at home or by tutors like Jillian – the Dharma school buildings had been out of use since she and John had come to the island, almost 5 years ago. Caroline didn't seem to mind playing by herself – coloring books were her constant companion. She had toys and dolls of course, but nothing seemed to pacify her more than crayons and something that needed coloring.

"Ah-men," Caroline finished, and allowed her hand to drop away from her mother's as she began to ate. Miriam watched her for a few moments, observing the way she kept each section of food on her plate separate from the next, swirling her chicken nuggets in ketchup almost delicately. Miriam blinked and glanced at her watch; her shift began in 15 minutes. She needed to call Roger, only because she couldn't think of anything else.

"Who are you calling, Mommy?" Caroline asked as Miriam picked up the yellow house phone and flipped through the small book of Dharma phone numbers.

"Someone to watch you while I'm at work, darling." She located Roger's number easily and began to dial it, slowly. Roger had worked as a janitor with John before he was promoted to the Arrow station, and Miriam had never liked him much. He was obviously an alcoholic and unhappy with his job and his life, including his young son. According to John, Mrs. Linus had passed away in some sort of accident involving Ben's birth, and Roger came to the island as a last resort. Something he and John had in common, Miriam realized, which was probably why they got on well. At least John hadn't taken to drink yet. Roger's son, Ben, seemed to take the brunt of it and generally suffered in silence, it seemed. But a nice boy all the same, and the same age as John Jr. would be. That comforted Miriam, but only a little.

She twirled the phone cord around her finger and listened to the ring on the other end with a sigh. If only she could think of someone else, but…

"Hello?" Roger's voice was slightly slurred, but it was only six o'clock, Miriam realized. He wouldn't have had time for too many beers quite yet.

"Hello, Mr. Linus. This is Miriam Hawthorne."

"Oh. Hello, Mrs. Hawthorne." It was obvious he was surprised to hear from her, probably anyone. The Dharma phones weren't used much, as the houses were so close together, there was hardly a use for them. Miriam didn't feel quite comfortable striding down to the Linus' house, however.

"I'm afraid John's shift at the Arrow and my own at the medical bay have overlapped this evening," she continued. "I'm in need of someone to watch Caroline until John comes home at around 11. I was wondering if your boy, Ben, was available. I would pay him for his time, of course."

"Well, I think that would be alright," Roger replied. "Don't worry none about paying him, though. He doesn't need it." Miriam frowned but didn't argue. It wasn't polite.

"Yes, well. I do appreciate this, Mr. Linus. Do you think Ben could be over here in about 10 minutes?"

"Yes, yes. I'll send him right now."

"Thank you again, Mr. Linus." Miriam hung up the phone delicately and picked up her purse. Roger Linus may not think his boy needed the money, but she believed good work should not go unrewarded.

"Who's coming over?" Caroline asked, twirling her fork in her mashed potatoes.

"Benjamin Linus. You know him, right?" Miriam found a few folded five dollar bills at the bottom of her purse and smoothed them out in her palm.

Caroline nodded, plopping a forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, almost too thoughtfully for a four-year-old.

"He doesn't need to come. Why can't Jacob just watch me?"

Miriam frowned as she laid the money on the counter and searched for a piece of paper to scribble a quick note down for Ben. "Who's Jacob, dear?"

Caroline shrugged. "I see him around here sometimes."

Jacob, Jacob who? Miriam wondered, preoccupied as she jotted down some quick instructions for Ben about Caroline's bedtime and where she or John could be reached in the case of an emergency. She didn't know of any staff members named Jacob, and tried to think if it was one of the teenagers. It must have been, she didn't know too many of their names, only the ones who had come into the medical station for some reason or another, and not many had.

"Well, I already asked Ben to come over, and he's on his way. Maybe next time we can call this Jacob boy, alright?"

Caroline just shrugged again. "That's okay."

A knock sounded on the door just as Miriam had slipped on her nurse shoes and started to clear Caroline's plate.

"I'll open it!" Caroline announced, heading for the door but stopping in her tracks as she turned to look at her mother for confirmation. Miriam nodded her acquiescence, realizing how careful being raised by a military father had already made her.

She listened from the kitchen as Caroline opened the door and greeted Ben. Miriam glanced at her watch again and frowned; she only had two minutes to get over to the medical bay. Dumping the plate in the sink, she wiped her hands and walked out to the living room, where Caroline had already sat Ben down on the couch and was instructing him to wait there while she got all her coloring books.

"Hello, Ben," Miriam greeted as she picked up her purse. The young man stood up politely and offered a tight, awkward smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Hawthorne. "

"Thank you for coming over on such short notice. I've left you a note with some instructions on the kitchen counter, along with a little something for your trouble." She smiled and shouldered her bag. "Your father insisted that I refrain from paying you, however, I'm sure you'll be discreet about it."

Ben's smile tugged into a slightly more genuine form. "Yes, ma'am. Of course."

"Alright then. She shouldn't be any trouble at all, but if you need anything, I'll be at the medical bay and John will be at the Arrow until around 11. You'll have something to occupy yourself after Caroline goes to bed, I'm sure. If not, our bookshelf is right over there." Miriam motioned across the living room and pulled open the front door. On a whim, she stopped and turned back to Ben. "By the way, do you know anyone named Jacob?"

At her questioning, Ben could feel his face go a little white. "Uh…I don't…know. Why?"

Mrs. Hawthorne didn't seem to notice his blanch. "Oh, Caroline brought him up. Said she sees him around sometimes. I didn't know if he was one of the other kids or someone I just haven't met yet."

Ben's thoughts began to swim, but he tried to formulate a complete sentence for Miriam. "Um, on second thought, I think he…lives around here somewhere. I'm not sure."

"Alright, well." Miriam waved her hand in dismissal and glanced at her watch. "Oh, I'm late. Thank you again, Ben."

"You're welcome," Ben whispered but the door was already closed. He sat down heavily on the couch, his head suddenly buzzing. Caroline Hawthorne had seen Jacob? Could it be truth, or just coincidence? Even as he thought it, he realized the possibility of this little girl making up an imaginary friend who just happened to be named Jacob, was slim to none.

Either way, he knew who exactly would want to know about this the most. Charles, yes. But Richard even more so.

Ever since their little "adventure" at the girl's birth, over four years ago now, Richard had taken an unusual interest in Caroline. At least, in asking Ben about her. The fact that Mrs. Hawthorne had called him to babysit was almost divine intervention, especially as he'd been planning to sneak out past the pylons as soon as his father got drunk enough not to notice, as he did most nights. The lack of his presence would be explainable, of course, and possible even relished in. He'd never spent more than five minutes in Caroline's presence until now, any information he'd been able to give Richard was minimal at best. But now…to tell him about Caroline's apparent rendezvous with Jacob?

No. No, definitely not.

He didn't pretend to understand Charles and Richard's odd obsession with the little girl at all, but he had a weird feeling it was going to end up pushing him out of the loop if he was too cavalier about it. He needed to step carefully here; Ben had waited too long for this to just be pushed aside for a girl, a four-year-old.

As if on cue, Caroline appeared, her tiny arms holding a nearly unimaginable stack of coloring books. Ben frowned, where had she gotten all these? Like she'd heard his unasked question, Caroline set the books down on the coffee table and answered it.

"Daddy had them sent here on the plane drop. So I can always color." Ben assumed she meant the bi-monthly pallets of food dropped off on the island from the Ann Arbor Dharma base. He almost scoffed at this – John Hawthorne had started as a workman, just like his father, but used his military know-how to claw his way up to the top, cozying up to Horace and Dr. Chang just enough to get bumped up to work in the Arrow, and apparently gain enough pull to order coloring books for his precocious little girl. Must be nice.

"Here," Caroline plopped a coloring book in his lap, interrupting his thoughts. From under the coffee table, she unearthed a plastic container full of crayons, every color and size. "That one is new, you can choose any picture you want." She smiled a huge little kid smile at him, apparently bestowing him with a huge honor.

"Thank you, Caroline." Ben scooted off the couch and sat next to her on the floor, opening up to a random page and laying the book on the coffee table. " You must really like to color."

"I do," she agreed, flipping through her own book. Ben watched and saw that she'd already been working on this one – almost every picture was diligently colored in. For a four-year-old, he guessed that was pretty impressive. "It's my favorite."

Ben picked out a crayon and started absentmindedly filling in the shape in front of him. He wasn't even sure what it was, nor did he care. He just wanted to know more about Caroline and Jacob.

"So, your mom said you hang out with Jacob sometimes."

Caroline had found a page she had not yet completed and rifled through the crayon box, searching for the exact color she needed. "Um, yeah. He comes around here."

"Oh yeah? Like, here? Your house?"

Caroline nodded. "Yep. And the swings."

"The swings?"

"He gives me a push sometimes."

Ben started to worry his bottom lip with his teeth. How come he had never seen Jacob?

Caroline began to color in the outline in front of her, a comical picture of a duck writing on a chalkboard. _Dumb_, Ben thought. _How would it hold the chalk?_

"Do you know him?" Caroline asked suddenly, not looking at him. Ben was starting to get annoyed and he pressed his crayon harder into the page in front of him. She treated this so nonchalantly, like it was no big deal that the entity in charge of the entire island liked to visit her from time to time. If Charles and Richard found out about this, it was over for him. Totally over. Why would they want to use him as the leader when he hadn't even seen Jacob, or heard his voice, or anything like that. Why him when they could have Caroline?

"Uh, yeah. I do."

"Oh." She continued to color and Ben watched her. She was meticulous about coloring inside the lines and even switched colors where a highlight or shadow might be. What the hell was up with this girl?

He knew what Richard would say. That she was _special_. Richard had told Ben he was special too, but surely that statement would be rescinded when he compared to Caroline – not only was she born on the island, unlike him, she could color in the lines at age four. She could see Jacob at age four. Ben was beginning to feel the very opposite of special all of a sudden.

Caroline had stopped coloring and was now watching him intently. "You're not coloring," she pointed out. "Are you done?"

Ben was more than annoyed now. He was just plain angry. "Yeah. So are you. It's bedtime."

The girl frowned. "My bedtime's not for two more hours." This only ticked Ben off even more – of course the little prodigy could tell time.

"Well, we're going early tonight. Come on." He flipped his coloring book closed and stood up, reaching for her hand. Caroline remained seated on the floor, staring up at him. She didn't look mad or indignant or like she would cry. She just stared at him, not quite blankly but almost…accusingly. "Caroline, come on. Now."

Caroline stood up reluctantly and placed her small hand into his. He led her back to her bedroom, which was way larger than his was, of course. She had toys and some expensive looking dolls, but they were all neatly put away in a shelf across from her bed. There was a small desk under the window, where yet another stack of coloring books sat.

"You can get in your pajamas, right?" Ben asked her, dropping her hand. "And brush your teeth?"

Caroline nodded, but her face still held that accusing stare.

"Great." He turned to leave but her voice stopped him.

"Will you tell me a story before bed?"

Ben turned back to look at her, wide green eyes trained on him. Was this a test?

He swallowed and reached for the doorknob. "No."

_

**::** Seriously…review! It takes likes two seconds and it improves my whole day!


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: "Called"

Caroline had to take her knapsack off her back and set it down on the grass before she could find the small piece of paper she was looking for. She had folded it up as many times as she could and shoved it to the very bottom of her purple bag, underneath books and school notebooks. She knew enough that if anyone found it, she would be in big trouble.

Finally, she pulled out the tiny wad of paper and unfolded it, eyeing the numbers written down in pencil. She raised her eyes and looked up at the massive pylons before her. Next, she looked behind her and took time to listen all around. Ben had warned her not to leave the Dharma grounds in daylight, only after dark. But she knew there was no way she could sneak out of her house at night – her dad had the best hearing of anyone she knew. Plus, the jungle was way more scary at nighttime. Everyone knew that.

Convinced she was alone, Caroline knelt next to the huge pylon and input the sequence of numbers that allowed her to open the box, revealing a small dial. As per Ben's instructions, she turned the dial until it was facing the green area. A second passed before the small green light flashed on and an audible noise emitted from the pylons, like a shutting down of the whole system. Which was, of course, exactly what she wanted.

Ben had warned her to be extra careful around the pylons, making sure they were completely off before stepping through. Even though she was certain they were, Caroline still felt nauseous pangs of worry as she picked up her bag and passed through. She was all the way on the other side when she realized she had been holding her breath; she let it out slowly. She was still alive.

Feeling more free than she could ever remember feeling in her nine years, Caroline strode into the jungle, enamored with the tropical sounds surrounding her on all sides. It didn't sound like this inside the Dharma grounds, not at all. This place was different…she finally felt like she really was on an island. This gave her a sense of adventure and she found herself deeper in the jungle than she'd intended.

Ben had told her, of course, that she would get lost if she wasn't careful.

"_Don't go too deep_," he'd urged. _"Stay on the outskirts, there's nothing inside the jungle for you. Nothing."_

Even though he seemed to be looking out for her best interests (after all, he had been the one to tell her that the jungle was the best place to read and draw and think), Caroline couldn't help but think that Ben was trying to keep something from her, or keep her away from something. She wasn't sure which. Either way, she didn't want to get lost in the jungle, so she found a cool patch of green undergrowth near a tree that allowed rays of sunshine to penetrate its branches, giving her a perfect place to sit and read.

Caroline placed her knapsack next to her and pulled out the heaviest book inside. Her tutor, Jill, had given it to her to "feel out", she'd said. It was some advanced math called geometry, something that the other kids weren't going to learn until 6th grade, Jill had told her. Caroline was only in 4th grade, so maybe Jill was trying to make her feel special. But Caroline didn't enjoy numbers as much as she enjoyed words and pictures.

Regardless, she opened the large book on her lap and began to diligently flip through the pages, pausing every now and then. There were some pictures, but they were boring ones, of lines and shapes only. There was no color or imagination. Caroline frowned, she didn't like when things were hard for her to understand.

She didn't know how long she looked at the book, but she must have started to do what her father disdainfully referred to as "spacing out", because an unfamiliar noise suddenly snapped her out of her reverie. She had to blink a few times as she looked around, the daylight had changed, shifted, leaving the previously sunny jungle in a fair amount of shadow. She must have been staring at the book longer than she thought, trying to work the unfamiliar pictures and numbers out in her head. The noises were all around her now, like whispers.

Then, as quickly as they started, they stopped, and Caroline waited. She had felt as though the whispers were a prelude to something, as though there was something else she should have expected to happen.

As it turned out, she was right.

Craning her neck to peer around the back of the tree, she saw nothing. Caroline turned back around, prepared to pick up her book again, but was surprised to see a man standing just a few feet from her. He was tall with very dark hair, and older. Not as old as her daddy, but older than Ben, and he wasn't dressed like anyone at the Dharma Initiative. She was unsure, mostly because she wasn't sure how he could have gotten to where he was without making any noise, but not scared. Because he didn't look like a scary man. He looked like a kind one.

"Hello," he said, taking a slow step towards her with his hands splayed out in front of him, as if to show her he didn't mean any harm. But Caroline had already figured that out.

"Hi." She cocked her head. "Who are you?"

The man didn't answer right away, but smiled. "You're Caroline." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." She frowned. "Do I know you?"

The man shook his head, still smiling. "No, you don't. I'm Richard."

"Hello Richard." Caroline set her book aside and stood up, extending her hand towards him. Richard didn't move towards her at first, but she kept her hand out. Maybe he was afraid of her, but she didn't know why he would be. Finally, he stepped forward and took her small in within his larger one. It felt warm and calloused over hers, like her dad's, but not. Caroline couldn't really remember the last time her dad had touched her, but it hadn't been like this. She could feel something different in this man's touch but she wasn't sure what it was. Not yet, anyway.

"Do you always shake people's hands when you meet them?" Richard asked, letting go of hers. Caroline shrugged and nodded.

"My mom said it's polite."

Richard smiled again; Caroline liked the way that, even though he didn't show his teeth, his smile seemed to stretch all the way up to his eyes. "Your mom is right."

"Would you like to sit down?" Caroline asked, and Richard nodded, taking a seat across from her and mirroring her cross-legged position. "I was trying to read from this book my teacher gave me, but…it's hard."

Richard extended his hand and Caroline handed him the hardcover book. She watched as he studied the front and frowned, flipping through the pages quickly. "How old are you, Caroline?"

"Nine. I won't be ten until next year, in January."

Richard knew the exact day and hour of her birthday but didn't tell her this. "This is pretty hard math for a nine-year-old." Caroline just shrugged.

"How old are you?" she asked. Richard laughed.

"Didn't your mom tell you it's impolite to ask an older person's age?"

"No," she admitted, and Richard felt bad after he saw the sheepish look that crossed her face. He wanted to tell her all about how old it was, but it wasn't time yet. He was on the verge of crossing the line by even being there with her, but Ben had let it slip to Charles some weeks ago that he'd given her the code to deactivate the pylons enclosing the Dharma grounds. Ever since then, Richard found himself wandering the outskirts of the jungle at random times. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit he was hoping to run into her.

"Don't worry about it," he supplied quickly, handing back the book. "Maybe I'll tell you someday how old I am."

"Why can't you tell me now?" she asked, and Richard shrugged.

"How about I help you with one of these math problems instead?"

Caroline glanced down at the book and Richard couldn't help but smile at the grimace that crossed her face. "Okay. I guess I do need help, but…I don't really like math."

"What do you like?" Richard prompted, and Caroline pulled over her purple backpack. Reaching inside, she pulled out a thick, worn paperback book that Richard recognized instantly.

"_Anna Karenina_?" he questioned, taking the book from her. It looked well-read and thumbed through. There was a paper bookmark with a picture of a sea turtle on it placed about halfway through. "How many times have you read this?"

Caroline pushed a piece of her dark hair out of her eyes. "I'm not done yet. I got it out of my mom's bookshelf; she said it's one of her favorites."

"She gave it to you to read?" Richard asked, pulling his eyes away from the book to stare at Caroline. He'd had his suspicions, of course, that she was special in some way, useful to them potentially. Ever since she was born, he'd felt as though she would have something to offer. He just wasn't sure when, and Jacob wasn't telling. But if a nine-year-old kid reading Tolstoy and doing middle school geometry wasn't a testament to her exception, he didn't know what would be.

"Well, no," Caroline replied slowly. "I just…took it. Last week." Apparently uncomfortable in being caught in her dishonesty, she reached into her backpack again and pulled out something else. It looked like a notebook, but thicker and filled with uneven pages. Caroline handed it to him and her cheeks filled with color. She looked both embarrassed and enthused at the same time.

"What is this, Caroline?" Richard asked. His hand hovering over the cover. She smiled.

"I like to draw."

Richard opened the book and began to flip through its heavy pages with care. He found page after page of drawings, ranging from rudimentary towards the beginning of the book, to elaborate towards the back. The sketches featured familiar landscapes and vistas around the island, as well as some faceless people, and various patterns. Most of the drawings appeared to be in plain pencil, but many were colored in later with bold strokes of watercolor or pastel.

"These are…very good, Caroline." _Very good_ didn't quite seem to cover it, but she seemed pleased by the compliment nonetheless. Her small face still filled with color but her responsive smile beamed out like a ray of light. "Have you ever shown these to anyone before?"

"Just Ben," she said, and Richard stifled a frown. Ben hadn't mentioned these drawings to him or to Charles. Nor had he mentioned her accelerated schoolwork or choice of reading material. "He's my friend, sort of. He's older than me, though. Mom said he's as old as my brother would be if he were still alive."

"I know Ben," Richard said, and closed the sketchbook. "He's a friend of mine as well."

"Oh." Caroline smiled at him and it was so contagious that he could not help but smile back. "Do you know Jacob too, then?"

Hearing Jacob's name come from Caroline's lips was the last thing that Richard expected to hear. It was all he could do not to get up and storm into the barracks to find Ben right at that moment.

"I do know Jacob. Do you know him?" Richard was almost afraid of the answer; had Ben merely told her stories about him?

Caroline nodded, glancing up at the shadows of the trees, growing darker as the time passed around them. "I used to. He used to visit me, but I haven't seen him in a long time."

Richard swallowed and pressed his lips together hard. "He visited you?"

"Yes, when I was little. I told Ben about it once and he said he knew Jacob too, but…then we didn't talk about it again. Here." She took the sketchbook from him and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. "I haven't seen him in a long time, but this is what he looked like when he visited me." She handed the book back to him, open to a page containing the drawing of a man.

Richard took the book and stared, unable to believe he had missed it in his first perusal of Caroline's sketches. It was, without a doubt, a near-perfect likeness of Jacob. Richard wasn't sure he had ever seen his visage portrayed on paper before…it was mildly startling. But then he remembered who drew this, and that she was still sitting across from him, waiting for his reaction. Richard was determined not to frown, even though that's all his face seemed to want to do.

"Wonderful, Caroline." He closed the notebook and looked back at her. She looked so hopeful and full of want that he couldn't help but ascertain that she didn't get a lot of praise and seemed to relish in it. There was a distinct part of Richard that wanted to give her everything she wanted and more. "That looks exactly like him."

"Really? Thanks." She took the sketchbook back from him, her cheeks still rosy and suddenly shy. She pressed the book to her chest and wrapped her arms around it. "I don't ever draw people, really. Just other things I see, or dream."

Richard made a mental note to ask about the dreams later. "Why not?" he asked instead, and Caroline shook her head, some of her brown hair falling in front of her eyes again.

"It's…too hard to draw their faces. Their expressions. I can't figure out how to make them seem…emotional." She looked up at him and Richard was surprised when she reached out to touch his face, her delicate fingers trailing lightly along his jawline. He reminded himself that this was a little girl and she didn't mean anything by it, not what an older woman might mean, and tried not to pull away. "I could draw your face, but…not the way you're feeling inside." Her hand dropped back to her lap and Richard smiled.

"Very few people can draw how someone feels inside," he pointed out. "Even the greatest artists struggle with that."

Caroline nodded. "I guess so."

A moment of silence passed between them, short but not uncomfortable, and Richard took the opportunity to notice that her eyes were dark green with hints of brown, like the color of wet moss on an ancient tree.

"Caroline, you are…remarkable," Richard said finally, and knew the instant he said it that he shouldn't have. It wasn't time, he couldn't possibly explain to her now…everything. But he felt deep down inside that she needed to know, just a tiny bit, of what kind of person she was. "Don't ever forget that."

She stared at him and, after awhile, nodded. Richard smiled and touched the back of her hand lightly. "It's time for you to go."

Caroline looked around and realized the jungle had darkened even more. The birds were still singing, but the shadows had extended through the leaves above their heads, blocking out the strains of sunlight completely. It was well past lunchtime and probably close to dinnertime. Richard was right, she needed to get home before anyone realized how long she'd been gone and chose to go looking for her.

"I won't tell anyone I met you," she announced, beginning to put her books back into her knapsack. Richard watched her carefully.

"Why is that?"

Caroline leveled a gaze at him. "I know you're one of them. A hostile." Richard couldn't help but smile at the reference.

"Is that what you think we are?" he asked. "Hostile? Do you know what that word means?" He had asked the same question to Ben many years ago, when he was around the same age as she.

"Yes. It means you're an enemy," Caroline replied, all too nonchalantly. "But I don't really think that you are."

"Okay. What do you think we are then?" Richard asked, and she thought a moment before smiling.

"I'm not sure. But I think you're friends, not enemies." She paused a moment as if unsure she should continue. "And I know that…Ben goes to see you, all of you. Late at night, he sneaks out. Sometimes he takes Ethan."

This was true. Ben had started bringing Ethan Goodspeed out to their late night meetings. He was only a few years older than Caroline was, and Ben had taken it upon himself, of course, that the boy should be initiated in. Charles had resented it at first but couldn't deny the prospect of a spy living under the very roof of the man they were trying to overthrow. Richard was beginning to think the whole thing was a bad deal, but generally, he kept his mouth shut. His complaints and questions could be warranted by Jacob, as he was the only person on the island worth talking to about such things.

"And does Ben ever invite you to join them, Caroline?" She shook her head at Richard's question and stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He stood as well, realizing in that moment just how small and young she still was.

"No. I asked once, but he said I'm too young, and that I wouldn't be interested in what you talk about." She shrugged. "My dad would hear me if I tried to sneak out."

Richard smirked at this; he knew John Hawthorne had been promoted to the Arrow station a few years ago, and since then, had become more militant than ever. There were rumors of new tactics on the rise, promoted by Hawthorne's expertise in various United States wars. Richard wasn't scared, he knew what he had to do to protect the island. But he felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl who was apparently missing out completely on having an actual father.

"Does your father spend a lot of time with you?" Richard asked, and she shook her head again.

"No. I know he's sad that I'm a girl," she said, looking down to the jungle floor to avoid meeting Richard's gaze. "Dad always wanted another boy after my brother died. He was named John, too. My brother."

There had been no details in Hawthorne's file about the brother's death, and Richard wanted to ask what had happened, but refrained. He reached out and touched her shoulder gently.

"Like I said, Caroline," he began, "you're an extraordinary person, and someday your dad will see that." If that was true, Richard didn't know, but if Hawthorne couldn't recognize how special his daughter was, there was a whole family of people living in the jungle that could.

"Thanks, Richard." She looked up at him again, showcasing a charming smile. "It was very nice talking with you today."

"It was nice talking with you as well," Richard said. She continued to look at him, as if trying to deduce something.

"Will I ever see you again?" she questioned. "Because I would like to."

Richard returned her smile. "Yes, Caroline. You will. But for now, we need to say goodbye."

He extended his hand in the same gesture that she had shown to greet him. Instead, she moved past his hand and walked straight up to him, wrapping her small arms around his waist in a sweet, innocent hug. He touched her back lightly, afraid to return her embrace lest he squeeze her too tightly.

She pulled away and offered one last smile as she started to walk away.

"Goodbye, Richard."

"Goodbye, Caroline."

Richard waited until she was completely out of sight, wishing he could walk with her to the pylons. Instead, he turned and headed in the opposite direction, towards camp. He had other things to take care of.

He was not happy with the revelations shared with him by Caroline today, only because they were things he should have already known. Ben was up to something, and Charles was not going to be happy about it. But Richard already knew how he would be punished; Charles had been planning an excursion down to the beach to confront the French woman for some time now. However, it seemed that they had found another unwitting candidate to go in his place.


	6. Chapter 5

**Note:** Sooo…thanks to those of you who have been reviewing faithfully (you know who you are). I know lots of people have been reading this but it's nice to know when you like it, also it inspires me to keep writing! I have a few more chapters written ahead, but we are getting close to catching up with where I'm leaving off, so that will mean my updates will be fewer and farther between. The best way to encourage me to keep writing (assuming, of course, that you _like_ the story and _want_ it to continue)…is to review! So please consider it if you're reading this right now. Thank you!

Chapter 5: "Coup"

"What makes you so _sure_ about this, Charles? What makes you so _confident_?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Linus. I am still your leader, I still give the orders, in case you've forgotten."

Richard sat back against a log on the opposite side of the fire from the argument that had broken out between Ben and Charles. He didn't want to get involved, but unlike everyone else around the camp, didn't have the luxury of retreating into his tent. Instead, he was forced to sit, listen, and advise. That was his position and it always would be. He didn't need to get worked up or start yelling. That was Charles' job..

"This is the list we've made, this is what you will use," Charles was spouting, shoving a wrinkled piece of paper into Ben's chest. "No questions asked!"

Ben snatched the paper and waved it at Richard. "Who made this list, Richard? You and Charles? Or Jacob?"

Richard glanced away from the fire at the list in question. "Jacob has approved every name on that list, Ben. And that's all you really need to know."

Ben scoffed, but made no threats to go to Jacob himself. And Richard had the sneaking suspicion that it was because Ben had never seen nor heard Jacob, not once, though he regularly claimed otherwise. As time went on, Ben only became more and more eager to shut Charles out and retain control for himself. Unfortunately for him, however, Charles Widmore was hardly the type of man to go down without a fight.

Ever since the night three years ago when Charles had ordered Ben and Ethan to travel down to the beach and kill Rousseau, things had been going downhill rather rapidly. In direct defiance to Charles' orders, Ben allowed the French woman to live and brought back with him her week-old baby, two things had that tremendously pissed Charles off. Ben had offered to let Charles kill the baby, but he, of course, declined. The power struggle between the two had reached a boiling point.

"_He's nothing but a child, an ingrate," _Charles ranted to Richard, what seemed like daily. _ "He doesn't care about the island, he's doing this for revenge, for himself. Mark my words, Richard, he'll ruin it all one day."_

As far as Richard was concerned, he wasn't too sure how much either of them cared about the island. But Jacob had been out of reach for the past few months leading up to their plans to infiltrate the Tempest. At the times when Richard felt most alone with his principles, even Jacob couldn't offer comfort.

Richard consoled himself knowing only that he had been through this exact scenario before, and would again someday. Ben and Charles were not the first, nor would they be the last. He knew Jacob's absence was not out of abandonment, but support.

"You have 40 hours, Benjamin," Charles was growling, poking a trembling finger into the younger man's chest. "I want her."

Richard looked up in time to see Ben's sour expression twist into an even deeper grimace. For years, any time Caroline Hawthorne was mentioned, Ben's standard reaction was extreme displeasure. For the most part, he didn't say too much, but always seemed to look like there was a bad taste in his mouth when someone spoke her name. But tonight, Ben was on a roll.

"Why?" he spat. "Why her, what makes her so _special_?" The word fell from his lips with so much distaste that it was almost comical. "So she knows some big words, she can draw. What makes her an asset to us? To Jacob?"

Richard stood, unwilling to involve himself in the argument but even more unwilling to allow Ben's slander to continue right under his nose.

"Jacob wouldn't have visited her if he didn't see her as an asset, Ben," he reminded, his voice remaining level and calm. "Jacob rarely reveals himself to anyone unless he has a plan for them. You of all people should know that."

Ben's face flared red with shame, visible even in the dim firelight. "I can't promise you anything. Unless you expect me to kidnap a twelve-year-old girl, I'm going to have to convince her mother first and foremost."

Richard forced a bitter smile. "Actually, I was under the impression that kidnapping wasn't something that particularly bothered you."

Ben's frown deepened; the girl he had taken from the French woman, now 3, still lived in their camp, being diligently raised by a group of the women. Ben had taken to visiting her quite often, however, but Richard didn't see it as a benevolent move. He was using the girl, Alex, to solidify his position as leader. It seemed this was what he had hoped to get out of Caroline all along before his plans had foiled. All Ben wanted were followers, not little girls that challenged him at every turn.

"Like I said, Linus, 36 hours," Charles repeated. He motioned at Richard. "And I want you to go with him."

"What?" Ben and Richard uttered in unison. Ben shook his head expressly.

"That will never work, Widmore. How am I supposed to get Richard into the barracks?"

"It's been done before," Charles replied. He turned to Richard, effectively dismissing Ben. "I don't trust him. I don't know or care how, but I want you there."

Richard sighed. It was obvious at this point that Charles wasn't taking no for an answer. In fact, he didn't even give them an opportunity. As abrupt as his command had been, he turned on his heel and stalked into his nearby tent, ending any further conversation.

Ben appraised Richard, still grimacing. "I don't know how the hell he expects this to work."

Richard ignored Ben, picking up his bag from next to the log he'd been sitting on. "We'll need to do this at night, and when Hawthorne is scheduled at the Arrow. Our window is now. Let's go."

Their trek together was nothing like their first adventure into the jungle to await Caroline's birth. Instead of being excited and pleased to be included, Ben whined and complained the whole way. Not necessarily to Richard, just in general. It wasn't hard to shut him out, so Richard did, instead contemplating the task ahead of him.

Since his first meeting with Caroline in the jungle three years ago, Richard had taken a considerably more active interest in the girl and her well being. He couldn't be on the Dharma grounds, of course, and he didn't trust Ben's reports. But he had other ways of getting information. He'd also met with her just a few more times in the jungle, albeit briefly. She'd gone to the same place every time, the first tree they had sat next to on their first meeting. He had since admitted to himself that it was no accident that tree had planted itself right in the middle of his daily walk, and he no longer ignored the fact that he wished for her to be there each time. The few times she had been were welcomed warmly, and had seemed to increase her trust in him.

Each year Caroline grew older showed the promise of the woman she would become, and Richard found himself eagerly awaiting her arrival. This concerned him, but Jacob had been frustratingly vague on the issue.

Ben led him through an alternate route past the pylons, and through a denser patch of forest running alongside the barracks. The area seemed to be more or less deserted at the late hour, most of the houses were dark and motionless.

"That's the one," Ben announced softly, pointing at one of the identical yellow houses. It was thankfully positioned a little further back against the hill, and one light was on, a dim one, in what seemed to be a bedroom. "You're certain Hawthorne is out?"

Richard nodded. "Our scouts at the Arrow report that he's been there every night for the past two months, even on his scheduled days off. Sometimes mornings as well."

"Working day and night to overthrow us," Ben mocked. "It's been almost seven years since he's been at the Arrow. What the hell is he doing? Building a nuclear weapon?"

"Won't matter in a few days, anyway," Richard replied. "Let's go."

They traversed the edge of the tree line until there was nothing left for cover, then used the pockets of darkness unreached by the makeshift lampposts scattered around the camp. Not a soul was in sight as they approached the house, and Richard wasn't sure if that was because it was so late, or because the Dharma numbers had been lowering rapidly for the past year. Despite recruitment efforts offshore, funds were waning. Members were down to a minimum, which made their impending plan a little easier to carry out. Of course, there were those they still needed to approach; the names on the list that were almost a sure shot to cross over. But Ben could handle that on his own – the Hawthorne house was the only one important enough to require a chaperone.

As they crept along the side of the house to the back entrance, Richard couldn't help but wonder what Miriam Hawthorne's reaction to them would be. This is where they had to be extremely careful. Should she react hysterically, they would have no choice by to incapacitate her somehow, and take Caroline. The action wouldn't bother Ben, but Richard liked to think he had a naturally calm demeanor and a desire for things to run as smoothly as possible. He had killed people when necessary, and he still would, but he didn't like to think of himself as a killer in any sense of the word. He thought of Miriam Hawthorne's file in his chest back at camp. The corner was still earmarked – noting her as potentially useful. Her above-average testing results coupled with her medical expertise and experience made her an appealing prospect; to this even Charles had agreed.

Ben was the one to knock lightly on the back door, and thankfully he was still wearing his khaki colored Dharma jumpsuit. His familiar appearance would hopefully make the transitioning conversation somewhat easier. Richard stood behind Ben and waited.

After a few moments, they saw a light flip on in the small window next to the back door that led into the small mudroom behind the house. Ben turned to Richard quickly.

"Just keep quiet," he hissed. "Let me explain everything." Richard had been planning on that anyway, but he nodded. Ben could be extremely persuasive and manipulative, and if what he needed to perform was the illusion of control, then that's what he would get.

To their surprise, when the door swung open, Miriam Hawthorne was not behind it. Instead, 12-year-old Caroline stared back at them. Richard had not seen her this close in over 6 months, and he noted how she already seemed to have grown. Her hair was longer and curled at the ends, laying in a thick ponytail over her shoulder. She was wearing pajamas, pink striped flannel bottoms and a matching top, Richard noticed, and her wide green eyes were sweeping over them, her gaze shifting from Ben to him. Her face was impassive and expressionless, but Richard thought he saw a softening in her glance when she spotted him.

"Caroline, it's late." Ben was clearly as surprised to see her as Richard was, but his tone was clipped, almost condescending. "We need to speak with your mom."

"Why?" she asked, eyeing Ben with what seemed like suspicion. "She's in bed, I –"

"Caroline?" Miriam Hawthorne came into view in the short hallway behind her daughter. She had clearly been asleep, and was wrapping a thick bathrobe around her body tightly. She was frowning. "What's going on?"

"Ben needs to talk to you," Caroline announced, stepping away from the door. She locked eyes with Richard once more before taking her cue to turn and leave.

"Benjamin Linus, it's very late," Miriam pointed out, one eyebrow raised in a way that made her look like she was about to start doling out time-outs. She stepped closer to the door, into the spot Caroline had vacated, and noticed Richard for the first time. "Oh. Ben, is…something wrong?"

"No, Mrs. Hawthorne. May we come in?" Ben asked, his tone taking on the quality of a favorite son asking to have dessert before dinner. Miriam paused, seemingly debating with herself for a moment, before silently stepping aside to allow them entry.

Richard followed Ben into their living room, where it seemed Caroline had turned on a small lamp next to a worn couch. He glanced to his right, down the dark hallway, and spotted a door with a strip of dim light shining from underneath – undoubtedly her bedroom.

Richard listened as Ben apologized profusely for the late hour, his voice dripping sweetly. He sat obligingly when Mrs. Hawthorne insisted, and politely refused her offer of tea with a silent shake of his head. As soon as Miriam was seated, Ben launched into his spiel, explaining everything all at once. It was a lot for a normal person to take in, and Richard watched Miriam carefully, attempting to judge her reaction. Unfortunately, her face was as unyielding as Caroline's had been and revealed nothing.

"I know it's overwhelming, but we're offering you a choice, Mrs. Hawthorne," Ben finished. "We know who your husband is, we know what his reaction would be, which is specifically the reason we've come so late. And if you're planning to stand by him, then…" Ben paused, glancing at Richard briefly. "Then we will leave."

A blatant lie of course, but Richard didn't flinch, especially since he realized that Miriam was watching him closely.

"And _who_ are you?" she asked suddenly, ignoring Ben's proposition for the moment. "I haven't seen you before around the barracks, so I'm assuming you're a hostile."

She seemed unusually calm despite the realization, so Richard felt comfortable responding. "You could say that. But you should know that we don't refer to ourselves as such, nor we do consider ourselves in any way hostile, Mrs. Hawthorne. In fact, what we want for the island is the exact opposite of hostility."

Miriam smiled, but her expression drooped with suspicion and what seemed like a bit of sadness. "Oh, and that's why you're planning to take the lives of about a hundred people in the next couple of days?"

Ben glanced at him nervously, but Richard ignored him. "What you need to understand, Mrs. Hawthorne, is that ourselves and the Dharma Initiative are two very different groups of people who want very different things for this island. I have personally been on the island for a very long time, and the last thing I want is to see it dug up and drilled into without regard for what it truly is."

Miriam cocked her head. "And what, truly, is this island, Mr…?"

"Alpert," Richard replied. "Richard Alpert. The reason the Dharma Initiative is here is to experiment on and exploit the very principles of this island that make it special. And they are not the first to come here looking to demolish and destroy. There have been many groups, many individuals looking for this island and a way to expose it, for many years. Our purpose here is to protect the island implicitly. Force is always our last resort, Mrs. Hawthorne. We _always_ give the opportunity for a peaceful transition." Richard paused, glancing around the living room briefly. "Unfortunately, the Dharma Initiative has breached the truce that has been in effect for the past 20 years, in many varied and unacceptable ways. The leadership continues to show disregard for the island and its original inhabitants. This cannot stand any longer. One side has to go, and we are giving you the opportunity to cross over to the side that will remain."

Miriam was silent for a long time. She did not look at Richard or Ben, instead gazing around the living room, her eyes growing slightly glassy and reflective in the dim light. Ben was trying to catch Richard's gaze, but was again ignored.

"I understand," Miriam finally said, her voice changed from wary to burdened. "I do. I never agreed with my husband's decision to come here, to raise our family here. I have seen many things in the twelve years we've been here that have made me question the practices and morals that Dharma represents. I have seen my husband made into a man of vengefulness and spite." She paused to turn her face away as she wiped her suddenly tear-streaked face with the sleeve of her bathrobe. "I see your side of things and I…I agree with you."

Richard didn't respond because he felt she had more to say, and she did. After a long pause, presumably to regain control over her emotions, Miriam turned back towards them. "But you need to understand, Mr. Alpert. My first and foremost concerns are for my daughter. I need to know that this decision is right for her as well as for me."

Richard nodded. "Of course. Your concerns are well founded, Mrs. Hawthorne. The decision you make tonight will affect the rest of your daughter's life." Miriam's gaze, so like Caroline's, burned into his own.

"Do you know my daughter, Mr. Alpert?" Richard hesitated for a split second before nodding.

"I do."

Before Miriam could respond, Ben interjected. "We are fully prepared to accept both you and Caroline, Mrs. Hawthorne. With the aid of myself and few other Dharma members over the years, information on new recruits has been shuttled between us. We have extensive records on you, your husband, and your daughter, and those who truly catch our eye, who we truly believe have something to offer the island, are on a list. That's what brings us to you tonight."

Miriam stared at Ben, uncomprehending, so Richard jumped in again. "Mrs. Hawthorne, what have you noticed about your daughter? What about her stands out to you?"

Miriam chewed on her bottom lip, fingering the hem of her robe absentmindedly. "Well…she reads a lot, and she's very creative… loves to draw and paint. Sometimes I worry that she spends too much time alone, but…there aren't really any kids around her own age to spend time with. She is very smart for her age, but I'm sure that has something to do with the personal tutoring she's had for so long."

Ben scoffed quietly at this. "Mrs. Hawthorne, I know Jill, Caroline's tutor, and she's a frighteningly average educator. She is not the reason Caroline is the way that she is."

Richard frowned at this; Ben needed to step carefully. Jill had already been recruited to their side and was in talks with Charles about being shipped off the island as a contact in Los Angeles.

"I don't understand," Miriam replied, shaking her head. "What are you saying?" Ben sighed, leaning forward from his position on the couch.

"What we're saying is that Caroline is…" He paused, glancing to Richard to finish for him.

"Special," Richard supplied. "And not in the typical way." He figured, of course, that Caroline was eavesdropping right down the hall, and continued. "We have been aware of your daughter for quite some time, as Ben alluded. She has continually demonstrated traits that show her value as a…" Richard paused, as he wanted to say _leader_, but knew that would not settle well with Ben. "…an asset to the island and to all of us. We are extending this option not only to you, but to her as well."

Miriam leaned back in her chair, looking exhausted from the information she'd received. "I see." She pressed her lips together and glanced over Richard's shoulder toward the darkened hallway. "I just want to know…that she will be safe. Taken care of." Her eyes fell on Richard as she said this. "Is this something I can trust, Mr. Alpert?"

Richard smiled. "I can give you my word, Mrs. Hawthorne, that Caroline will be treated with the utmost respect, care, and protection."

Miriam nodded. "Alright, then. What do you need from me?"

Ben filled Miriam in on all the frivolous details, such as what time the operation was set for, where she needed to be, and how clandestine her support should remain.

"Should your husband catch wind of this, Mrs. Hawthorne," Ben said, his voice full of warning, "we will have a full-scale war on our hands." Miriam frowned.

"Which is exactly what he wants, I'm afraid."

As they left the house, sneaking along the way they had come in, Richard stole one last glance at the front bedroom window. The light was off now, but the curtains were parted ever so slightly in the middle, and he could just make out a pair of green eyes watching their departure.

"Well played, Richard," Ben deadpanned, once they were safely hidden amongst the tree line.

"I only spoke truth to her," Richard replied, his eyes on the path ahead of them. "She deserved to know what she was up against."

"Absolutely." Ben didn't sound as pleased as he probably should have, but Richard ignored it. "Charles will be delighted, I'm sure."

"You really need to cool it, Ben," Richard pointed out. "Charles is about at his breaking point with you, and it isn't going to end well."

"Oh, it won't end well at all," Ben agreed. "Not for Widmore, anyway. But he knows that."

Richard began to open his mouth, but closed it and shook his head instead. He didn't need to argue, all he had to do was trust Jacob and trust that this was all in the island's best interests.

That was all that really mattered, anyway.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: "Rectified"

Caroline was two months away from her 15th birthday when her mother died.

That morning, she stood in the empty bedroom her mother had spent the last couple months of her life in. Besides a lamp on the bedside table and a laundry basket in the corner, the room had been stripped clean of personal effects. The mattress was bare; the sheets had been disposed of upon the removal of Miriam's body. Caroline didn't even want to be in the empty room; the feeling was oppressing, to say the least. But she forced herself to stay, and sat down on the edge of the mattress, facing the open window.

The island breeze blew in, rustling her hair about her shoulders and blowing a strand in front of her eyes. She shook her head to dislodge it and took a breath, savoring one of the only parts of island she still found enjoyable.

Since the purge two years ago, in which her father had died along with 90 percent of the remaining Dharma personnel, things had changed drastically. Less than a year later, Ben had become the new de facto leader of those left alive on the island, and subsequently banished Charles Widmore. From what she had learned and experienced of Charles prior to his removal from the island, Caroline didn't think it was a great loss. However, Ben as a replacement wasn't any kind of gain, either.

Save for a handful of those who preferred to adhere to the previous lifestyle of tents and jungle living, the majority of the island's inhabitants now resided in the Dharma barracks. Caroline had remained in her original house with her mother, but she had always desired to live in the jungle. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that had something to do with Richard Alpert.

One of the positive after effects of the purge had been the world of learning and knowledge that Caroline had been immersed in, once the Dharma boundaries ceased to exist. Richard especially seemed to encourage and even nurture her desire to learn, about the island, about its history, about everything. He told her many stories, mostly about Jacob. He taught her Latin. But there were still many things he had yet to explain, claiming that it wasn't yet time.

But the atmosphere had slowly begun to change since Ben took over. New people arrived on the island, and some left to become contacts in other areas of the world. There were even some children, including Ben's "daughter", Alex. The focus had slowly begun to shift, from the island's best interest, from Jacob, to…something else. Caroline wasn't quite sure yet what it was, but she didn't know if she liked it.

Then, her mother got sick. It came on suddenly and started like the flu. When she started throwing up blood, however, Caroline realized something might be seriously wrong. Severe amebic dysentery was the official diagnosis by Henry, their sort of acting doctor, though Caroline doubted much of his expertise. The most knowledgeable person on the island when it came to remedies and treatment had been Miriam Hawthorne, and everyone knew that, even Henry. She'd single-handedly run the medical bay, much as before the purge, monitoring and treating everything from cuts and bruises to minor infections. No one really seemed to ever get too sick on the island, which was why everyone was left disoriented when the person who finally did was their nurse.

The proper drugs had not been available on the island to treat Miriam. Ben constantly assured Caroline that he was doing everything he could to procure them, but these things took time. By their eventual arrival, however, even the most powerful antibiotics had little effect. Miriam had resigned herself to death much more easily than Caroline had.

"_We've both seen many things on this island, darling," _she had said. _ "Miracles, even. Your birth, Caroline…even your birth was a miracle. I should have died, you very well could have. But clearly, you needed to live. Jacob wanted you to live. And we have to accept that. Just as we have to accept this."_ Then she had touched Caroline's face and gone to sleep. Hours later, she was dead.

Now, Caroline sat on the bed and pondered her mother's last piece of advice. _We have to accept this. We have to accept this._ No matter how many times she repeated it in her head, the only response she felt was…_why_? She had never questioned Jacob before…she simply believed. She knew there were others in the camp that had trouble going on faith alone. But the stories Richard told her were too elaborate, too believable to be false. Also, she didn't believe in a million years that Richard would lie to her, about anything.

Caroline had vague memories of seeing Jacob as a child, coupled with the sketch she had done of him. She certainly believed he existed. But now, for the first time, she felt herself beginning to question his motives. The thought was almost too horrifying to bear; no one questioned Jacob. If Ben found out what she was thinking, she'd be undoubtedly shipped off just like Charles.

Before she could think it over, a soft knock interrupted her.

"Caroline, I didn't think you would be here." She didn't have to turn around to know it was Ben who had entered the room behind her. His voice was softer than usual, cautious, but she knew he wouldn't be here without a reason.

"Why not?" She hadn't spoken all morning, not even to Henry when he had come, or the two men who had arrived to carry her mother's body out of the house and down to the medical bay, for what she didn't know, and didn't want to. Her voice sounded hoarse with lack of use, like she had just woken up.

"I guess I thought you'd be gone somewhere," Ben admitted, rounding the bed to stand in her line of vision. He took off the bag he carried around with him everywhere, the bag he'd had since he was a kid. "The jungle, maybe."

Caroline didn't miss the way Ben's voice rose slightly on the last word, almost questioning but not quite. Ben was almost 29, now, the same age her brother would be. Miriam had constantly reminded Caroline of this, as if that would influence her to treat Ben like kin. Her mother had liked him, quite well, probably because he'd used to babysit her when she was little, and was a tremendous kiss up. Caroline could still hear her mother's voice in her head.

"_Now that your father is gone, you'll need someone to watch out for you. You never got the opportunity for a brother, and clearly Jacob has supplicated that with Ben. You should be thankful for that, Caroline."_

She'd eventually given up trying to tell her mother that Ben was really just a big talker who was more concerned with making her feel small than making her feel protected. His most recent complaint had been her time spent with Richard – he wasted no opportunity to point out her obvious teenage crush in increasingly humiliating ways. Caroline wasn't sure why he was trying to keep her away from Richard, but she had the feeling it had more to do with Ben's well being than hers.

"No. I'm here," she responded simply, challenging him with her eyes. Ben dropped the matter and sat down next to her on the mattress.

"Either way, I figured I should come by and see you."

"Why's that, Ben?" Caroline asked. "To apologize for standing back and letting my mother die?

Ben turned to look at her, shocked. "What a thing to say, Caroline. You know that I did everything I could to get that medication to the island in—"

"Did you?" she interrupted. "Did you do _everything_ you could? For some reason, I didn't quite get that feeling of urgency from you." Ben didn't respond for a few moments, and when he did, his voiced was cold and abrupt.

"Putting aside the fact that I liked your mother very much, why on earth do think that I would be stupid enough to _not_ do everything I could to save the life of the only person on the island capable of basic medical practice?" Ben stood up and moved towards the window – it was obvious she had really put him off. "Sometimes you can really be careless, Caroline."

Caroline frowned and looked down at her hands in her lap. He was right, in a way. Her mother had been valuable. Ben had been known to kill people or let them die had their use to him run out…but Miriam had been needed. Perhaps she had spoken too soon.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just…" She hesitated, searching for the right word. Devastated, bereaved, heartbroken…none of them quite seemed to cover it. "Upset," she muttered, closing her eyes and rubbing her temple gently. Ben cleared his throat.

"Obviously you have the right to be. But generally, people cry when they're upset. Not start throwing out accusations of murder."

"Technically, I never used the word murder," Caroline pointed out, looking up at him. "Just implied negligence." Ben shook his head and crossed his arms.

"Either way, it was hurtful. But considering the morning you've had, I'll let it slide." He paused and looked out the window before continuing. "I _am_ sorry, Caroline."

She tried to say _thanks_ or something of the like, but the word caught on the lump in her throat.

They sat in silence for a few more moments, Ben staring out the window and Caroline staring at her hands. Just when she was about to think their meeting had been the closest to pleasant she had ever gotten with Ben, he spoke again.

"Caroline, I'm going to have to ask you to move out."

She blinked. "Um, excuse me?"

Ben sighed, turning away from the window to look at her. "Don't get upset; not off the island. Just out of the house." Caroline frowned.

"May I ask why?"

"You may," Ben acknowledged, and reached down to fish something out of his bag. He extracted a manila folder and tossed it to her. "Goodwin and Harper Stanhope. One of our contacts in upstate New York recruited them last month. She's a clinical psychologist, he's an engineer. You'll find their credentials are outstanding."

Caroline stared at the folder in her lap, flipping it open briefly only to snap it closed again. She had no desire to peruse the lives of strangers. "And they need my house, why?"

"This is one of the last two bedroom houses in the barracks; as a married couple, I believe they need it more than you do." Ben shrugged. "I'm not asking you to move into a tent. Unless, that's what you want." Again, the questioning, accusatory lilt in his voice. Caroline ignored him.

"So where are you throwing me?"

"Jill's old house. The one bedroom, on the far side of the grounds. I considered placing you with one of the other women, but I assumed you would prefer to live alone."

Caroline didn't really care where she lived; she probably would rather live in the jungle with the others. But the fact that Ben had come in to order her out of the house her mother had just died in on the same day of her death was more than a little insensitive. "When do I need to leave?"

"Preferably today; the Stanhopes are arriving tomorrow afternoon on the sub," Ben replied. "I'm sorry to—"

Caroline effectively ignored the rest of what Ben was saying; she had no interest in his empty apologies and excuses. She finally felt like crying, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. Not waiting for him to finish, Caroline stood up and walked out of the bedroom, ignoring Ben's voice calling after her. She continued down the hallway, out the door, off the porch, and away from the house, putting as much space between her and Ben as she could.

She considered just heading for the jungle directly, but didn't know if she could make it that far. So she veered left instead, heading towards the old swing set surrounded by the peeling white picket fence. Caroline hadn't been on the swings in years; she had vague memories of her father pushing her on the set when she was very small. It didn't seem like something her father would do, but she wasn't sure who else would have pushed her. After that, she'd abandoned most every other plaything for coloring books, and when she'd mastered reading, real books.

The old metal set creaked as she sat down on one of the sagging swings, swaying gently in the breeze. Now that she was away from Ben, the encroaching tears seemed to dry up mostly, but a few had managed to sneak out on the walk over. She didn't brush them away, even when they tickled, just allowed them to roll slowly down her cheeks, leaving a salty trail.

She had only been alone a few minutes when she felt the swing set shift and creak under a new weight. Caroline closed her eyes and hoped Ben hadn't followed her, but the voice that reached her ears belonged to Richard.

"Caroline." She felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder and felt comforted instantly, as if his touch had reached in and scooped out every bad feeling in her heart. "I am so sorry."

She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. His dark eyes showed that he meant nothing out of contrition, only genuine concern. There was a part of her that wanted to lean into his touch, throw herself into his arms and cry, cry out all the hurt and sadness and pain she felt. But as usual, she suppressed that part of herself and tried to smother it under logic. The logical, reasonable thing to do was definitely _not_ blubbering all over Richard's shirt.

"Thanks," she murmured instead, finally reaching up to wipe her face, but the tears had made their descent. Only half-dried streaks remained.

Richard didn't say anything more for a little while, and Caroline felt he was doing what he usually did – giving her a chance to speak her mind. This was unusual to her, as it was something her father had never done, nor did Ben. They were the type of people to trample over the voices of others with their own, as if their thoughts were more superior and worthy of being considered.

For a long time, Caroline couldn't think of anything to say. Then, as if the floodgates had been opened, she began to speak, not even sure what she was saying.

"It's just…I don't know why she had to die. And Ben didn't try to stop it, like he didn't even care, like it wasn't a priority. And maybe it wasn't, not to him or to Jacob, but I don't understand why not. She was my mom, she was all I had left. I already gave up my dad, and now my mom too?" Her voice was on the edge of hysteria but it was too late to stop. "It's not fair, and it doesn't make any sense. I thought the things that Jacob did were _supposed_ to make sense, they were supposed to benefit the island, but how did my mom's death benefit the island? If anything, it made it worse, at least for me. And I don't even really like this place anymore anyway, not like I used to, but now I don't even have a goddamn mother."

Caroline had never cursed before, at least not that she could remember, and the word felt distasteful in her mouth, but at least she felt like she had made her point. Her sadness had mixed with anger and indignation, towards Jacob, towards Ben, towards stupid idiot Henry who probably didn't even get the diagnosis right in the first place, towards the perfect Stanhopes moving into her house tomorrow. The one person she didn't feel angry at was the man sitting next to her on the swing set, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

When she had calmed down slightly, forcing herself to stop regurgitating words before she said something that really got her in trouble, Caroline looked at Richard out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't watching her, instead staring at the ground, apparently deep in thought, like he usually was.

Caroline wasn't stupid; she knew something was up with Richard. She remembered their first meeting as clearly as if it were yesterday – almost 6 years ago and he still looked exactly the same as he had on that day. She had told herself for awhile that that was normal for adults, they didn't age as visibly as growing children. But it was pretty apparent that he had not a single gray hair or wrinkle. And weirder still, he was always clean. Even though he lived in a tent in the jungle, he never seemed to sweat or get dirty, even on the most sweltering of days. She had also never seen him cry, but then again, she had never seen her father cry, either. However, she knew intrinsically that Richard was a very, very different kind of man than her father had been.

She figured his…condition was because of Jacob, but why not ask? And it seemed like the perfect moment.

"What's wrong with you, Richard?" she blurted, realizing later that she could have worded her query better. "How…how _old_ are you?"

She remembered their conversation in the jungle, when he had said maybe someday he'd tell her how old he was. She'd passed it off at the time as maybe him just being difficult, but the cryptic statement was not lost on her now.

Richard looked up from the ground, meeting her eyes, and he smiled. It wasn't a happy smile or a mocking smile, it looked more sad than anything else. "I'm…old, Caroline."

"I know, I know." She rolled her eyes, reaching back to tug on her ponytail for lack of something else to do with her hands. "But that's not what I'm asking."

Richard still watched her intently. "I am this way because of Jacob."

She swallowed; the lump in her throat was creeping back up and she didn't know why. "And, will you always be this way?"

He shook his head, but it wasn't a yes or no answer. "I don't question Jacob. He does things only for the benefit of the island."

Caroline sighed and stood up, pacing in front of the swings mindlessly. "I know, no one's supposed to question Jacob. Whatever you do, don't question Jacob. But what if I _am_ questioning him? Does that mean something bad is going to happen to me? That he's going to strike me dead right this instant?"

Richard watched her, still smiling. "That's…not how it works, Caroline."

"Well, how _does_ it work then, Richard?" she demanded, and she had never raised her voice at Richard like this before. Maybe Ben, but never Richard. "Because that's always what you seem to leave out."

It angered her further to see that he was still watching her calmly, his eyes following her trail as she paced back and forth like some kind of caged circus tiger. "You aren't the first to question him," Richard said softly. "And you won't be the last."

This made her feel a little better, but she didn't want to let him know that. "Well, great then. So I'm questioning him, but where are my answers going to come from?"

Richard didn't respond, just let her keep pacing. Finally, Caroline stopped and stood still in front of him, feeling a little ridiculous but better now that she had just let it out.

"I'm sorry I'm being this way, I'm just…" She shook her head. "Pissed off. I'm so pissed off."

"Why?" Richard asked, even though she had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew somehow.

"I just…Ben asked me to leave my house," she blurted out, instantly wishing she hadn't. She tried not to complain about Ben to Richard, for a few different reasons. Even though she knew Richard technically didn't have as much power as Ben, their leader, there was something incredibly influential about a man who had apparently been on the island since the beginning of time. She knew that, if he wanted to, he could exercise control over Ben. Also, her mother had apparently made some deal with him in which he had promised to protect her. His defense was never in a selfish way, like Ben's, but instead he only seemed to care about what was best for her. She was inwardly thankful for this, and reminded herself that it was probably the source of her embarrassingly girly hero-worship sort of crush on him that she'd had since she was 9. But all things considered, she tried not to exploit this.

Richard was staring at her. "He…what?"

Caroline sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything. There's some couple coming to the island on the sub tomorrow, and…it's really not a big deal."

"Goodwin Stanhope and his wife," Richard echoed. "Yes, I was aware of their arrival, but for Ben to ask you to leave your house hours after your mother's death is really unacceptable, Caroline."

"I know, but he's the leader, right?" She shrugged and tried to play if off like it didn't upset her as much as it really did. "It doesn't matter."

Richard stood up as well and put his hand on her arm gently. "I'll ask him to give you a few more days. The Stanhopes can stay somewhere else until—"

"No, please, Richard, don't do that," Caroline begged. "It'll just make things worse." Richard cocked his head, looking confused.

"What do you mean?" The last thing she wanted to tell him was that Ben would just ridicule her for having Richard fight her battles. So she shrugged and took a step away from him.

"It's nothing, really, it's just…been a rough day." She glanced over his shoulder towards her house, wondering if Ben was still inside. "I should probably go start packing. What else am I going to do, sit around and mope?"

"You deserve to grieve, Caroline," Richard reminded, looking more concerned for her than ever. "No one will blame you for that."

Caroline laughed but it was forced and humorless. "Yeah. Well, I don't even know what they're doing with her body. Probably running some ridiculous tests and experiments as we speak." Without will, another tear rolled down her cheek. This time, she caught it quickly.

"Where would you like to bury her?" Richard asked. "I can make arrangements with the medical staff."

She filled with gratitude for him and found herself blushing. "Um, I don't…I guess maybe somewhere by the beach. She liked to take walks there." The last thing she wanted was her mother's ruined body tossed unceremoniously in the pit somewhere with the rest of the Dharma corpses. With her father.

Richard nodded. "I'll take care of it. We can have a small memorial gathering in the next couple of days, if you would like." As much as Caroline wanted to say goodbye to her mother privately, she knew that Miriam had been well-liked and many would want to share memories of her and pay respects.

"Yeah. Yes. That…sounds fine." She looked at Richard, his concerned and caring eyes, and felt almost guilty for her silly crush on him. He was just trying to help. He was trying to fill the void her father had left, and she was misinterpreting it, that was all. "Thank you, Richard."

"You're welcome, Caroline." He returned her small smile. "You know that I liked your mother very much. She was an intelligent and beautiful person. Like you."

Caroline's blush started to reach epic proportions and she knew that she needed to get away. "Th-thanks. I, um, better go. Pack and stuff. See ya."

She ran off before Richard could say goodbye, and he sat back down on the swing he'd vacated, staring out at the jungle. Miriam Hawthorne's death was an unfortunate occurrence in multiple ways, but the most obvious one was how it had affected, and would continue to affect Caroline. He knew this was something that would change her, take away her innocence. She was already questioning Jacob, which he had anticipated, and that kind of concern could not go ignored for long.

However, he had enjoyed watching her grow over the years and nurtured her curiosity greatly. With the Dharma educators either leaving the island or dying, he had somewhat unofficially taken on the opportunity to tutor her. Even at fourteen, she was already studying advanced concepts that most secondary students would be struggling to master, so the job was not difficult. In fact, Richard enjoyed teaching her, probably more than most things.

It was obvious she had a crush on him, and Richard couldn't help but feel bad about that. He had promised her mother that he would protect her above all else. He had known and watched over Caroline since she was a baby. But she wasn't a little girl anymore, and she was well on her way to becoming a woman. Richard knew Ben had been questioning the time they spent together, but he ignored it. The girl was special, he knew it, Ben knew it, Jacob knew it. But what her exact purpose on the island was, Richard wasn't quite sure yet. He only knew that Jacob didn't do things without reasons behind them.

"Richard." Ben's voice broke into his thoughts, and he looked up to see the younger man in front of him. Ben had evolved as well, from that young kid he had encountered in the jungle, to a hardened, meticulous man. Richard knew Jacob had a reason for this, too, which was what he constantly worked to remind himself.

"Hello, Ben," he greeted. Ben nodded.

"Caroline came running to you after all, I see." Richard shook his head.

"Was there a reason you felt the need to kick her out of her family's house the same morning that her mother died?"

Ben frowned. "If you think I did it expressly to be jackass, you're wrong, Richard."

"Good to know," Richard replied. "I'm retrieving her mother's body from the medical bay. She'll be buried near the beach, within the next couple of days."

Ben's frown only deepened, his hands clenching on the bag slung over his shoulder. "That's not protocol, Richard. You know that—"

"It's her mother, Ben." Richard stood up, unprepared to take no for an answer. "We would have done the same for your father, had you accepted my offer." His voice was firm, and Ben did not fight back.

"Fine. Whatever you say. You are here to _advise_ me, after all." Ben's voice was full of spite, but Richard ignored it.

"Also, she's going to want to be taken to Jacob."

Ben stared. "What? What do you mean? Did she say…?"

"Not yet, but she will eventually," Richard said. "She'll expect you to take her, being our leader." Ben looked like he may pass out.

"But I thought you said that no one could request an audience with Jacob except for…me."

"You're right. But she's not going to request it, she's going to demand it. And if we don't take her, she'll go alone."

**AN:** Hi. If you've gotten this far, please review, even if you thought it sucked. Tell me what you want to see more of/less of/not at all. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 7: Part One

**AN:** So I wasn't going to update tonight…but the Saints won the bowl, so I'm in a good mood. FYI, this chapter is going to split into 2 parts because it turned out super long. So, here is part one…read and pleasepleaseplease review!

_

Chapter Seven: "Exodus"

Part One:

"What are you doing here?"

Richard smiled. "Nice to see you too, Caroline."

The teenager stared back at him, the fury evident in her eyes. "No. No, Richard. Ben is supposed to take me."

Clearing his throat, Richard motioned past her into the house. "May I come in?"

"No," Caroline snapped, instantly stepping aside to allow him passage. "What the hell is going on?"

Richard stepped through the doorway into the small Dharma house, one of the smallest in the barracks. The living room looked much the same as the old Hawthorne house had, as Caroline had simply transferred everything from one residence to the next. He knew she didn't spend a lot of time in the house, and decoration simply wasn't a priority for her. The only thing that made the room seemed lived in was the full bookshelf on the far side of the room and the armchair in the corner, a volume sitting open on its seat.

"There's been a change of plans," Richard announced, turning to look at Caroline, her mouth set into a hard line. He hadn't thought she could possibly mature anymore past fifteen, but since her mother's death, Caroline had fast become a determined woman.

Two months before her seventeenth birthday, Caroline had asked Ben to take her to Jacob. Richard hadn't been present, therefore had only heard Ben's version of the story, but when he refused, the result was not pleasant.

"_She flew off the handle," _Ben had told him. _"I've never seen her act this way. It was as if she'd been planning the conversation for years, and knew exactly what I would say. She started spouting all kinds of things about what I owed her, what Jacob owed her. I don't know what she's expecting from him, but it's almost like she just wants to make sure he's real." _

As Richard had predicted, when Ben told her no, Caroline announced she would go on her own. When Ben called her bluff, she had only gotten as far as the edge of the barracks when he stopped her, promising to take her to Jacob if she could wait for spring to come. Naturally, Ben deferred to Richard to fulfill the empty pledge.

"_What was I supposed to do, let her tramp off into the jungle alone and probably die trying to find the statue?" _ was Ben's excuse. _"Just…take her out there. We both know Jacob won't agree to see her, but maybe the trip will be enough to pacify her. Make something work, Richard. You have to. You're the only one who can handle to be around her anymore, anyway."_

That part was true. Since her mother had passed away, Caroline had changed. She was like a hardened version of herself, indignant and suspicious, of Jacob, the island, and everything. Richard was half-afraid that if she didn't meet with Jacob, she may try to leave the island. Of course, that wasn't possible, not for her, but he wouldn't relish being the one to tell her that.

"Change of plans being that Ben's a freaking liar?" Caroline demanded, bringing Richard back to the present. "He promised to take me."

"I didn't think it would matter to you," Richard replied, and truly he hadn't. Caroline and Ben had never really gotten along, but recently the two could barely be in the same room for more than five minutes without a fight. "He had other plans, so he asked me to take you."

Before she could continue to argue, he turned away from her to glance around the room. "I trust he told you it would be a long journey across the island? It's over a day's walk; we'll camp in the jungle tonight, and tomorrow on the way back. Are you packed?"

"Yes," Caroline replied sullenly. She had figured something like this would happen, that Ben would find some way to get out of his commitment. But she didn't consider the chance that he would send in a substitute. And she really didn't consider that it would be Richard.

Truthfully, what Caroline expected to get on this trip was probably not what Richard expected. She knew his allegiance to Jacob was great…the fact that Richard was apparently immortal was one of the only things keeping her faith in Jacob hanging on by a solitary thread. But even if Caroline admitted that he existed, she was still angry at him. This trip was to validate her anger, to bring it to completion since its birth at her mother's death. With Ben, who she felt furious at as well, manifesting that anger would have been easy. But Richard…she couldn't imagine getting angry at Jacob in front of him, not like she really wanted to.

This just wasn't the way she had planned it, that's all.

"So?" Richard was watching her, waiting, a hint of a smile on his face. "Are you ready to go, Caroline?"

Caroline sighed. "I'll get my stuff."

Richard held up his hand to stop her. "Allow me. Your bedroom?" Caroline nodded, feeling nervous. Richard had scarcely been in her house, and never past the living room, definitely not ever in her bedroom. She had been hoping that her stupid obsession with him would quit now that she was older, but it only seemed to have grown stronger over the years. That made her mad as well – there was nothing safe about being in love with someone who was apparently incapable of aging. Maybe now it wasn't a problem, but in 50 years, when she was almost 70 and Richard still looked about 35…there was no way it could work out. She was angry at Jacob for that, too.

"Um, it…may be a little messy," Caroline called out, hurrying to follow him down the hallway, hoping she had remembered to throw yesterday's bra in the laundry bin instead of over her bedpost. She had never seen the inside of the tent Richard resided in out in the jungle, but she was almost positive it was immaculate.

Her backpack was leaning against her bed, packed with only the essentials and a sleeping bag strapped on the bottom, and Richard lifted it with ease. Caroline watched him from the doorway, hoping he didn't notice her open closet door and the mess inside.

"You must think I'm a glutton, having all this stuff," she said, and Richard smiled at her.

"You're not a glutton for having a house and a bed to sleep in, Caroline." He shrugged, shifting her pack onto his shoulder. "Just because I've chosen to stay in the jungle doesn't mean I've chosen a life of asceticism. It's just what I'm used to." He turned and touched her quilt-covered mattress lightly. "I don't even know if I could sleep on a real bed if I wanted to anymore."

"Maybe you should try it sometime," Caroline replied, instantly blushing once she realized what had come out of her mouth. But Richard only laughed lightly, as if she'd suggested he try eating ice cream for dinner.

"Maybe." He glanced around the room again. "Is this all you have?" Caroline nodded and he smiled again. "I guess you're not such a glutton after all. We'd better get going, it's getting late."

Richard had his own pack, miraculously even smaller than Caroline's, but he offered to carry hers as well as they began their trek into the jungle. Naturally, Caroline refused – the pack wasn't heavy; Ben had warned her of the length of the journey and she knew she would not want to carry a lot.

Their walk started out quietly; Richard tried making small talk with her about various books and mutual interests they had, but Caroline made it fairly clear that she didn't feel like talking. So Richard fell silent as they moved through the jungle, choosing instead to watch her out of the corner of his eye. He had never seen her look so determined, even as she walked. To be honest with himself, Richard had no idea what was going to happen when they got to the statue. It was typically true that only the leader could meet with Jacob, but when it came to Caroline, Richard knew that she had seen Jacob as a little girl, talked with him, played with him, even. There was something when it came to her that was different enough to leave him confused about most things, even Jacob.

Another thing that confused Richard was Caroline's obvious feelings for him. It wasn't unnoticed by many, as much as she seemed to try and hide it. When he entered a room, she blushed. When he looked at her, she blushed. When he talked to her, she blushed. What was more concerning to him was that her girlish crush had seemed to strengthen over the years; she was an adult now, and though she still hadn't mentioned anything to him personally, her feelings hadn't seemed to wane at all.

More concerning still was that Richard could not, try as he might, find it within himself to tell her that what she wanted between them could never work out. He knew that she had figured out that he was different, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her everything, that he could never allow himself to dream of marrying, having children, a family, a life with anyone, let alone her. He had loved others before, long ago, and it used to disappoint him to think that there could never be a future, that he would watch them age and die like everyone else. But he had grown used to the feeling over the years on the island, eventually electing not to take any lovers at all. It was easier that way. Of course, there were the occasional moments of weakness, of surrender, the most recent being Eloise sometime in the late 1950s. This only served to remind him that Ellie hadn't been much older than Caroline at the time, and he shook his head to rid his mind of the thought.

Their walk stretched out across most of the morning and into the early afternoon; the sun was at its highest point in the sky before Richard suggested they stop for lunch.

"I'm not hungry," Caroline insisted, sitting down on a fallen tree heavily. She was perspiring in the humidity of mid-day, and her normal pallor was beginning to darken with sun exposure and redness from exhaustion. Richard shrugged his pack off his shoulders and set it down next to the log she sat on, eying her critically. Her arms, exposed by the tank top she wore, were strong with lean muscle that he was pretty sure she'd gotten from swimming in the ocean daily. He knew she was in good shape, but a journey like this, traversing the length of the island in less than two days, would fatigue anyone.

"No, Caroline. You need to eat," he insisted, expecting a stubborn response, which she delivered promptly.

"I'm not a little girl, Richard," she reminded him, pausing to take a drink from her canteen. "I said, I'm not hungry. What are you going to do, force feed me?"

It was a dare, and while Richard didn't consider himself a competitive person, he liked a challenge just as well as everyone else.

"If that's what it takes," was his quick response. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

He had heard a stream nearby, and it took him only a few moments to reach it. Experience coupled with the freshly sharpened knife in his pocket aided him to catch two fish easily within 15 minutes. He wrapped them in a couple banana leaves and headed back to where he had left Caroline. At first glance, she was nowhere to be seen, and Richard feared that she had started off again without him. But as he drew closer, he saw that she had simply laid down on the log, stretched out on her back with her sweatshirt balled beneath her head as a pillow. Richard slowed his pace to an inaudible step as he neared her. Her lean body was stretched out across the top of the log, one foot on the ground to balance her. The tank top that she wore had ridden up slightly, revealing less than an inch of smooth skin beneath. But it was enough to cause Richard's throat to go dry.

It had been years, he thought. Since Ellie, since anyone. No one could expect him to ignore this.

But he had to.

Tossing the small bundle of fish down to the ground, Richard watched her out of the corner of his eye as she started at his apparently sudden arrival. She sat up and looked on as he extracted a few more things out of his pack.

"Caroline, will you start a fire while I clean these?" He didn't wait for an answer and instead began to filet the two fish in front of him. She sighed but didn't argue; Richard figured her empty stomach had started to get to her.

While he skinned and boned the fish, she used her hands to clear out a shallow hole in the earth, using nearby sticks and dried leaves for kindling. The dirt mixed with the beads of sweat on her skin and made little smears of mud on her arms, and when she used the back of her hand to wipe her forehead, a streak on her face as well. Richard watched her as he worked, caught in the act when she found his gaze with hers.

"I don't suppose you have any matches," Caroline questioned, and Richard held back a smile as he looked down. Most all of their people knew how to make a fire with their bare hands, unaided by any kind of modern technology. It was something of a prerequisite, and he knew Caroline was no exception, as he had been present when Charles had taught her how at age 12. He considered letting her continue, but his desire to keep moving overrode his desire to see her frustrated; as comical as it would be, they had a lot more ground to cover before nightfall.

He reached into his pack and tossed her a small drawstring bag filled with matches. She didn't say anything, but her relief was apparent as she gratefully struck the first match and placed it in her mound of kindling. Once the fire was sizeable enough, Richard extracted a small folded grate from his pack and set it over the blaze, carefully placing the two neat filets of fish on top.

Caroline had leaned up against the log again, and Richard sat next to her, pulling a square of flannel from his pocket and handing it to her. She glanced at him in question, and he motioned to the dirt on her arms.

"You've got mud on your face," he supplied, and she smirked, raising the cloth to her cheek to wipe the skin there gently.

"Is it offensive to you to see a normal human being who actually gets dirty?"

Richard only smiled. "Not at all. It's refreshing, actually."

Caroline tossed the cloth back to him, landing it in his lap. "Do you even need to take showers?"

"I suppose I don't technically need to, but I do enjoy them." He wiped his hands on the cloth before folding it back into his pocket. "I'm not as abnormal as you apparently think I am, Caroline."

She shrugged, her eyes on the roasting fish over the fire. "Maybe, but the weird far outweighs the natural."

Richard used his knife to turn over the fish gently; just a few more minutes. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" She seemed bothered by this question, and shifted away from him marginally.

"Well, no…I just…" She seemed tongue tied and Richard smiled as he watched the fish cook.

"I've known you since you were a baby, Caroline. And you've never seemed annoyed by the way I am before now."

"I'm not annoyed by it," she argued. "Just…I don't know. I want to know _why_. And since you're clearly not telling, I'll just have to ask Jacob, I guess."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to explain." Richard set a piece of fish down onto one of the banana leaves and handed it to her. "I didn't bring any ketchup, I'm afraid."

Caroline blushed as she accepted the fish, lowering her head. As a child, she had gone through a lengthy phase of spreading a healthy amount of the Dharma-issued ketchup on everything she ate. Richard brought this up often to tease her, and remind her of how long he had known her.

They ate together in silence, the sun filtering through the trees around them. Once he was finished, Richard stood and carefully put out the fire with a few handfuls of dirt.

"We'll head out in five minutes, if you need some time to wash up," he said, nodding in the direction of the stream. Caroline did so, and returned promptly, her long hair now tied back into a neat braid. Richard watched as she shouldered her pack, wondering what she would do when the answers she sought would inevitably refuse to reveal themselves. Many had come to the island seeking answers and Caroline wouldn't be the first to be disappointed. Richard only hoped that she wouldn't lose faith in Jacob, or in him.

Their journey continued silently for few hours more; they only stopped briefly to refill canteens. It was obvious to Richard that Caroline was growing tired of walking, but she didn't ask for a rest. However, it did seem that she was getting bored of the silence, but Richard waited for her to initiate conversation. An hour later, she finally spoke.

"Don't you need to look at a map or something?"

Richard shook his head. "No. A map to where we're going doesn't exist, and even if it did, I wouldn't need one."

"Because you go here all the time?" Caroline asked. "To talk to him? Jacob?"

"I've been here before, yes, but this journey isn't usually the way one would communicate with Jacob." Caroline frowned.

"How do you do it then? How do you meet with him?"

Richard shrugged. "If you waited long enough, Caroline, Jacob would come to you. Just like he did when you were young."

Caroline laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Yeah, sure. Well, I _have_ been waiting, and he hasn't come. I _have_ questions, and he hasn't answered them. What is there left for me to do?"

Richard didn't feel like starting the same argument over again, so he didn't reply.

They walked on, the sun beginning to curve its way behind them and lower slowly, sending most of the jungle into shadow. Richard knew they couldn't continue much longer before needing to stop for the night, but he amended this, at least temporarily, by lighting a torch he had tied to his pack for the occasion. The jungle at night took on a different form entirely, and it was obvious Caroline had not been well-exposed to it in this state. Richard observed quietly as her pace became a bit more harried, and she turned to look behind them at every noise. He wanted to ask her if she was scared, but he knew that she would say no.

"Step carefully here," he instructed, motioning towards the ground below them with his torch. "Rousseau's traps are strung all over the place."

"You mean Alex's mom?" Caroline asked, and Richard nodded. It was mostly common knowledge that the young girl Ben was raising as a daughter had been kidnapped as a baby. The only one who didn't know was Alex herself. She was 9, now, and about the only reason that Caroline still bothered to interact with Ben. She adored the little girl, and had somewhat unofficially declared herself to the role of big sister. Without her mother, Alex needed a female to look up to, and Caroline was the perfect role model. This put Richard at ease, as Ben had taken over Alex's schooling completely and it was relieving to know that she had the influence of someone…normal in her life.

Caroline's curiosity about Rousseau had not been satisfied, apparently, and she questioned Richard again. "Do you…know her?"

"Personally? No," Richard said. "But we have crossed paths in the past. She keeps to herself mostly; whatever Ben threatened her with when he took Alex seems to have instilled in her a pretty decent fear of us. It seems she's gone relatively insane over the years, so she poses little threat to us. Besides her scattered traps, of course. Keep your eye out."

Caroline quieted, and Richard watched her as they walked. She kept her eyes warily on the jungle floor as he'd instructed, but her yawns weren't hard to miss. She was sleepy, as anyone would be after a day of walking. It wasn't until she tripped on a wayward vine and nearly fell that Richard announced they should call it a night.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, shrugging off his strong grip on her forearm as he helped to straighten her up. "Let's keep going."

"It's time to stop, Caroline." Richard let go of her arm but turned to lead her in the direction of a stream he could hear trickling nearby. If he had gauged it correctly, they should be within 100 feet or so of a nearby waterfall. He took a few steps closer to the water source through the trees, glancing behind him briefly to see if Caroline had followed. She was directly behind him, certainly not brave enough to stay on her own in the dark.

Sure enough, a break in the trees ahead revealed the waterfall, and Richard shrugged off his pack, bending down to plant his torch into the soft earth.

"We'll stay here. I'll start the fire. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," Caroline replied, taking off her own pack and sitting down on a nearby rock. "Fish again?"

"No." Richard pulled a couple cans out of his pack. "Two choices. Pork and beans, or just beans."

Caroline made a face. "Plain beans, I guess."

Richard started a small fire somewhat quickly while Caroline gathered wood for him. When she passed the bundle of branches from her arms into his, their hands brushed, and her blush wasn't amiss in the dim firelight.

They ate in silence, mostly because Caroline's eyelids drooped through the entire meal. Finally, Richard took the can from her hands before it tumbled to the ground.

"Get some rest," he instructed, untying his own sleeping bag from his pack. Caroline yawned and did the same without protest.

"Yours looks warm," she commented, unlacing her shoes and nodding at his sleeping bag.

"It is," he replied, removing his own shoes. "Army grade. I've had it since 1954. I acquired it from a group of US soldiers who made base on the island to test nuclear weapons."

Caroline stretched out in her own sleeping bag, the standard Dharma issue that most used. "Did you kill them?"

Her eyes seemed to glitter like fireflies in the light. Richard nodded. "Yes."

"Did any of them join us?"

"No, none of them were called," he replied. "Though we gave them the opportunity for peaceful retreat, of course. They declined, obviously."

"Obviously," Caroline yawned, again balling her sweatshirt under her head as a makeshift pillow. She was quiet for a long time and Richard assume she had fallen asleep as he watched the fire begin to smolder and die.

"Richard?"

Her voice startled him in the silence and he looked over at her, her face barely visible in the orange glow. "Yes, Caroline?"

"Thanks," she murmured. "For taking me. I really…hate Ben."

Richard smiled and didn't have time to reply before she dropped off into sleep. He watched her for a few moments longer, until the fire sizzled out and supplied no more light for his voyeurism. Then he laid down and turned over, falling asleep to thoughts of fireflies.


	9. Chapter 7: Part Two

**AN: ** So here's part two of Chapter 7. Apologies in advance for the hokey ending. Read and _**review**_. Please!

-

Part Two:

Caroline was already out of her sleeping bag when Richard rose the next morning. The light outside was gray and dim, and a thin layer of fog still hovered over the jungle floor. Richard sat up, slightly disoriented, glancing around for Caroline. Their fire from the night before still smoldered lightly, and her bag was lying where she had left it the night before, as were her shoes. She couldn't have gone far.

Richard took the time to put his own shoes on before standing up to look around for her. His guess was that she was washing up in the nearby stream, but he found himself striding over there just to make sure. At the point where the dense trees split apart a little ways from their camping spot, he found his answer.

Caroline had removed almost all of her clothing, save for her underwear, covered only by a flimsy white tank top, and waded out into the water up to her hip. Her back was turned to Richard as she used the waterfall to wash her face and body. He knew he should be giving her privacy as she bathed, but he found himself hiding among the trees and peering out at her. He knew that his mouth had opened slightly and he was doing little more than gaping at the girl. He knew that he should be ashamed, but he wasn't.

She turned around, then, revealing that her wet shirt had become more or less completely see-through, doing nothing to conceal the undergarments she wore beneath. She stepped more fully underneath the waterfall, allowing the stream to saturate her long hair. Richard felt as though his eyesight had sharpened so much that he could follow every drop of water as it trailed down the front of her body, between her breasts and down her torso, sliding effortlessly off of her tanned skin, which had never looked as smooth and inviting as it did to him right now.

Her eyes were closed and she hadn't yet noticed him, but it was only a matter of time before she did, so Richard finally tore his eyes away and headed back to their camp, distracting himself gathering more wood to rouse the fire.

He was coaxing the flames back to life when she stepped back into the camp, now fully dressed in worn corduroy pants and a thin t-shirt, her damp hair hanging over her shoulder.

"Good morning," she greeted, combing through her hair with her fingers as she sat down on a log across from him. Richard nodded, unsure if he could trust his voice to work through his bone-dry throat.

"Good morning. Did you sleep okay?"

Caroline shrugged. "Considering the fact that I was on the cold, rocky ground all night and woke up with a centipede crawling across my cheek, yeah, pretty good."

Richard smiled, tossing the last of the wood he had gathered on the weak fire. "Wonderful."

They ate their dinner leftovers for a quick breakfast, and Caroline seemed a bit more conversational after a good night's rest; she chatted to Richard about whatever seemed to pop into her head, mostly books she had finished recently and the varied question about Jacob. She seemed optimistic, and Richard couldn't help but feel bad for her. He knew the outcome of the journey could not be positive for her in the least bit.

She was the first to recommend they get moving, taking the initiative to put out the fire and pack up the rest of her things. Richard tried not to stare at her blatantly as the guilt from watching her crept back up to torment him silently. The worst part was, he couldn't even seem to make himself feel too terrible about watching her…only about walking away when he did.

Richard listened her to talk freely as they began walking, the mist beginning to clear around them as muted rays of sunshine penetrated the trees overhead. Caroline had reached a point of almost rambling, but he allowed it, offering his murmured input when she asked for it. It was almost as if she was nervous, but he wasn't too sure what she was nervous about.

"I didn't really realize why he hated me, or how much, until I found out that my brother had died," Caroline announced, and this statement snapped Richard out of his slight reverie. He glanced at her, but she was looking straight ahead as they walked, just a few paces ahead of him.

"What?" he asked, and she glanced back at him.

"My dad. He always hated me."

Richard didn't know if this was true or not, but the fact that she believed it made him feel a sharp pang of some unclear emotion. Grief, empathy? Maybe a mix of both, but regardless, something he hadn't felt before.

He wasn't sure what to say, but he found himself asking, "How did your brother die, Caroline?"

She was quiet for a few moments. "An accident. He was 8. He was playing outside alone while my dad was at work, and my mom was inside, washing dishes. She told me once that all she had to hear were his screams to know that he was going to die."

Caroline paused again and Richard waited, listening to the sounds of the jungle as they walked while he waited.

"He was kicking a soccer ball around and it rolled out into the street. He ran out to get it and a car hit him. He was small, the impact knocked him down and actually rolled him under the tire and up into the wheel axel. His legs were torn apart instantly, and he lived through the whole thing, screaming. When my mom got outside, the driver of the car had pulled over and was trying to help him, but it was too late. Even when the ambulance got there, there was nothing anyone could really do to get him out – he passed out eventually and died from blood loss, slowly and painfully."

The way Caroline recounted the story was slow and with an almost clinical detachment. Richard felt at a loss, but managed to say, " I'm…so sorry."

She just shrugged. "It's hard for me to feel sad about it because I didn't know him. I wasn't there. Is that bad?"

Richard shook his head. "No. No, Caroline, that's not bad." He tried to look at her face to read her expression but she was too far ahead of him to see now. He tried to lengthen his stride to catch up, but she didn't seem to want him to see her.

"After that, my dad changed completely," she continued. "His only son dying, coupled with how angry he was about the war…turned him into someone unrecognizable. At least, that's what my mom said." She forced a small laugh. "She told me once that, before the war, before my brother was born, he had this…nickname for her. He called her _Miri_. And she loved it, she'd never had a nickname before and she just _loved_ when he called her that. But after…everything…he never called her that again. She said it was like the man she married just packed up and moved out."

"How do you feel about it?" Richard asked, but she just shook her head.

"All I know is that my dad never wanted me. Ever."

Richard frowned. "You don't know that. He was clearly bitter about your brother's death, but—"

"No." Caroline stopped walking and turned to face him, making him stop in his tracks. "No, Richard. I _do_ know that he didn't want me. He didn't have to tell me, I know because it was obvious in the way he treated me." A few tears began to stream down her cheeks but she wiped them away angrily. "He never once…held me, or read to me, or kissed me goodnight. Or even acted like he cared that I was born. All he ever wanted was a son, someone he could raise up to be just like him. And once he realized that I was nothing like him, not at all, he gave up on me. All my life I grew up knowing that my father didn't appreciate me, couldn't believe in me, wasn't proud of me. If he did love me, it was by requirement only. And that's it."

Richard opened his mouth to say something, although he wasn't quite sure what it would be, but Caroline stopped him.

"I don't want your sympathy," she announced, turning away to start walking again. "All I want now are answers."

"What kind of answers are you looking for, Caroline?" Richard asked, following closely behind her. "Because if what you want is a piece by piece explanation for your life, that's not what Jacob is going to offer you."

"Oh yeah, and why not?" she demanded, now tearing through the jungle undergrowth. How she knew which direction she was going, Richard wasn't sure. "Doesn't he owe me that? Doesn't he owe me an explanation for having to _murder_ my father? Watch my mother die right under my nose?"

"You didn't murder anyone, Caroline—"

"Oh, no, you're right, Richard. That was you."

He tried to remind himself that she was upset, and that was why she was throwing accusations around so disrespectfully. The last thing he needed was to get angry himself.

"Don't pretend that you don't know the reason behind why we did what we did. It needed to happen. For the island…you know that."

"No, I know that's what you _told_ me had to happen. I know that's what you said _Jacob_ wanted," she threw over her shoulder. "Well, now I want to know why."

They walked in silence after that.

As they emerged in a clearing, Richard could see dark storm clouds moving in from the west. He knew by the time they reached the beach it would be raining.

"How much father?" Caroline asked, her voice emotionless. "It's going to rain soon."

"We're close. About 15 minutes away," Richard responded.

He waited for Caroline to apologize as they walked, expected her stammered excuse of "being upset" to come any minute. But it never did.

The rain came quickly, however, and by the time they emerged from the trees onto the beach, they were near soaked. Richard slipped his pack off his shoulder and turned to watch Caroline step out of the trees behind him. Her eyes widened upon sight of the destroyed statue, as Richard had expected.

"Where…where are we?"

"We're here," Richard said. "This is where Jacob lives."

Caroline stared at the statute through the rain, slipping her pack off and allowing it to fall forgotten on the damp sand.

"What happened?" she asked. "To the…rest of it?" She glanced at Richard and frowned slightly. "But I guess you can't tell me, right?"

Richard forced a unfeeling smile. "The door is hidden, it's in the middle of the column at the base of the statue. Press on the stones and they'll move on their own."

Caroline's face dropped. "You're…not coming with me?" He shook his head.

"No, Caroline. This is something you need to do on your own."

She looked terrified, as if the weight of what she was asking – a personal meeting with the spiritual leader of everything and everyone on the island – had finally fallen on her. Richard half-expected her to ask him to turn around and take her back home.

Instead, she turned away from him, seemingly summoning her courage. Richard couldn't help it; as angry as she had gotten at him earlier, he wanted nothing more but to comfort her. He reached out and placed a cautious hand on her shoulder.

"This is what you wanted," he reminded gently. "To meet with him."

Caroline nodded, still facing away from him. "I know." She turned around and shrugged at him. "Well…see you later, I guess."

Richard sat down on the sand and watched as she crossed the beach towards the statue. Halfway, she seemed to lose her nerve and her stride faltered. He waited to see if she would turn back, but instead she simply stood still for a few minutes before continuing on. He watched her scale the rocks on the way up, and finally reach the platform on the base. She found the hidden door with ease, and pushed the stones aside as he had instructed her.

Instead of going inside, however, she turned away from the door and sat on the edge of the platform, her legs hanging over the side. She hunched over, her face buried in her hands, and Richard could tell even from far away that her body was shaking as she cried. It was hard for him to watch her without taking action, but he knew this was necessary. After her mother's death, Caroline had push her need to grieve aside and instead immersed herself in trying to find out all the reasons why. She had scarcely allowed herself time to cry and feel the pain that had encompassed her since the loss of both parents. So though it killed him to see her in so much pain, it was something that had to be done.

Finally, Caroline stood and stared out into the distance towards him. Richard didn't know if she was looking at him or not, but he raised his hand in what he hoped was a reassuring wave. She didn't return the gesture, but turned around promptly and disappeared into the dark door.

The rain continued to fall on him as Richard sat on the beach, watching the waves. The wind had picked up and the rain was pelting his face in harsh, cold slaps. Time passed slowly, and Caroline remained inside for what seemed like hours. Richard watched the open door through the rain, any moment expecting Caroline to come out. The sky darkened even more as heavier rain clouds moved in and early afternoon turned to late afternoon.

He couldn't begin to imagine what was going on inside the statute, if Jacob was meeting with her, what he was telling her, what she was telling him. The worst part was that he knew he couldn't even ask about it. When someone met with Jacob, it was their business. It was personal.

Finally, Caroline appeared in the doorway. Richard watched her as she slowly and carefully made her way down the wet rocks and dropped back down to the beach. Even from far away, he could tell there was something changed in her. She had let her hair down, and it was growing damp again in the rain as she neared him, getting wavy with the added moisture. The wind blew it around her face, obscuring her expression so that Richard couldn't see if she was pleased or even more upset than before.

He rose as she approached him, brushing the sand off of the back of his pants. He barely had time to straighten all the way up before she was on him, literally, her arms encircling his neck. He didn't have time to adjust to this, either, before her mouth was on his. Her face felt wet but he wasn't sure if she was crying or it was just the rain…until she pressed closer and he felt the hot tears distinguishing themselves from the cold raindrops against their faces. He couldn't pull away, not only because he was shocked, but because he didn't really want to.

The kiss seemed to stretch into an eternity but ended all too soon, Caroline pulled away slowly, her hands still on his neck, cold. He flexed his fingers and realized his own grip was on her waist, tightly. He relaxed his touch but didn't let go. Caroline was watching him, tears still apparent on her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, but she was smiling, very slightly.

"What…" Richard rarely felt speechless, but now was definitely one of those times. He wanted to know what Jacob had said, had he told her to kiss him? Why was she still crying? Why was she smiling? His head was swimming with questions that needed answers but that he knew he could ask. "What…happened?"

Caroline's smile widened, and the rain poured down on them even harder now, drenching them. Thunder crashed somewhere in the distance. "He wasn't there."

Richard frowned. "What?" But Caroline just shrugged and she was still smiling.

"He wasn't there, not physically anyway. But I felt him, and I talked anyway, because that's all I really needed to do, I guess. And…I felt like he was listening. Really listening. Even though he didn't respond, that was all I needed." She shrugged again. "I know what I'm supposed to do now. I know…why."

_And kissing me was a part of that?_ Richard wanted to ask but refrained. He didn't want to discourage what she had done, but he couldn't help but wonder where it had come from. Regardless, she had found what she wanted.

Abruptly, the rain stopped, leaving them standing alone on the beach, still touching each other. Caroline dropped her hands from his neck, and Richard let go of her as well.

"So Jacob just…wasn't there." Caroline nodded. "And you're not…pissed off."

She laughed and shook her head, her wet hair sending droplets everywhere. "No. Crazy, isn't it? I just…understood. It wasn't time. I've been…enlightened."

Richard couldn't help but laugh as well. All of the animosity and callous that Caroline had harbored for the past three years just seemed…gone. It was mildly unbelievable, but he had seen Jacob do some amazing things on the island; inexplicably curing Caroline of her anger was not the least of these. He had many questions, but knew they would be answered with time.

"Should we go?" Caroline asked, stepping past him to reach for her pack. "I'd like to get a ways back before we have to stop and camp."

Richard agreed, lifting his own pack, and they set back into the jungle on the walk home. Caroline was mostly quiet, but her demeanor was changed and it affected the way she walked. She treated the jungle more carefully with her steps, Richard noted, as if she had discovered a newfound appreciation for the island.

As the sun began to set behind them and throw them into shadows, she reached out to take his hand in hers. Other than the time they had shook hands on their first meeting, Richard hadn't yet had the pleasure of feeling her hand slip inside his. Hers was smaller, of course, and softer, as she hadn't lived in the jungle, had to chop wood and start fires and tie up tents daily. But it slid inside his easily, her thumb hooking onto the backside of his hand and squeezing gently. They held hands as they walked, only letting go when Richard stopped to light a torch as the darkness engulfed the jungle.

They found a place to camp easily, only about a mile south of where they had camped the night before. Caroline started the fire while Richard caught a couple fish in the stream, cleaned them and cooked them. They sat next to each other in companionable silence as they ate, shoulders brushing occasionally. Richard waited somewhat expectantly for her to bring up the kiss in some way – either apologize for it, or make an excuse. He was only mildly surprised when she did neither.

When it was time to sleep, Richard put out the fire while Caroline first unrolled her sleeping bag, and then his, only about a foot apart. He could feel his throat go dry again; he didn't know how much temptation he could resist. But Caroline didn't try anything, simply laid next to him, staring up at the stars through the trees.

Richard was almost asleep when she spoke, her voice cutting into the silence like a beam of daylight.

"Richard?" He opened his eyes.

"Yes."

"I…I want to leave my house. Live in the jungle, with…you, and everyone else."

Richard frowned, glad she couldn't see his expression in the darkness. "That's…not a good idea, Caroline."

"Why?" she said, and her voice only sounded slightly hurt. "You don't want me to?"

"That's not it." In reality, he would love to have her in the jungle, making coffee in the morning, joining him on his walks, slipping into his tent under the cover of night…which was exactly why she couldn't be there. The reason he'd gotten in trouble with Ellie was simply because she'd been close, available. If Caroline were that near to him…he didn't trust himself to resist.

"Caroline, think about what you'd be leaving behind."

"The barracks?" she asked. "Ben's overbearing presence? A life of monotony?"

"Alex," Richard responded. "She's…growing up. She doesn't have her mother, she only has Ben. She needs you, looks up to you."

"I would still be around for her, I just—"

"She needs to know you as a constant presence, Caroline. Someone she can trust and rely on. Someday, she's going to learn of Ben's lie, and she's going to turn away from him. She's going to need someone to fall back on or—"

"Or she'll turn out like me?" Caroline supplied. "Running off and demanding someone take her to see Jacob?" Richard nodded in the dark.

"Probably." Caroline was quiet for a few moments.

"I guess you're right."

Richard sighed in relief; it was true, Alex needed Caroline. But not as much as he needed to withstand his physical urges towards her, especially now that she had crossed the barrier herself and kissed him. If Caroline had cast her shyness behind her and was no longer afraid to act on what she was feeling, no one was in more trouble than he was.

As if she had read his mind, Caroline was suddenly right next to him, pressed against the side of his body through the layers of their sleeping bags. Richard stiffened and held his breath, waiting. But Caroline simply burrowed herself up next to him and made no other movements. Slowly, Richard pulled his arm out of his sleeping bag and wrapped it around her, holding her in place.

"Thank you, Richard," she murmured, and he could feel the vibration of her voice against his torso. "For everything."

Richard stared up at the stars for a few more moments before closing his eyes, feeling her heartbeat travel through his hand, up his arm to match up with his own. "No, Caroline. Thank you."


	10. Chapter 8

**AN: ** Okay, so it's been a little while…sorry about that. Life doesn't slow down sometimes. To make up for the absence, here's an extra long chapter. No, really…it's super long.

_

Chapter Eight: "Key"

Caroline watched the clock in her living room with diligence. With every second that ticked by, every minute that passed, she resisted the urge to look out the window for the visitor she knew would be on his way at any moment. Sighing, she picked up the book that lay open on the couch next to her, the same one that she had been picking up and discarding after few sentences all morning. It was in Latin, which she knew how to speak but hated to read.

"_It will improve your vernacular,"_ Richard would say every time he gave her a new stack of books to finish. Caroline didn't really understand why she needed to know Latin – so far she'd never had to use it. But everyone spoke Latin, it was a sort of emergency system and there may come a day that she would need to know it…at least, that's how Richard explained it. So far, he hadn't tried to make her learn any other languages, though she knew he himself spoke Russian, Korean, and Spanish fairly fluently.

Finally managing to lose herself in the difficult book, Caroline's gaze was glued to the page when the soft knock interrupted her. She looked up just as the front door swung open and Richard stepped in.

Richard used to knock every time he came to her house, but when his visits increased in frequency, Caroline had insisted that he stop. Instead, he'd adopted a knock- open hybrid – kind of like a warning system to let her know he was coming inside. But, Caroline could usually tell that he was near in some way, even before his knock.

Caroline tossed her book onto the coffee table as Richard closed the door behind him. "Well?" she demanded, unable to wait for a greeting. "What did he say?"

Richard glanced at her and sat down in the armchair next to the couch, picking up her discarded book. He made a show of opening up to where she had left off and raising his eyebrow, as if to say she hadn't gotten very far.

"I've been distracted," Caroline pointed out, leaning forward and pressing her hands together in her lap. A breeze blew in the open window and she shivered, mostly with anticipation. "So?"

Richard set the book down and sighed, leveling a rather serious gaze at her. Caroline knew before he spoke that the news wasn't good. "He said no."

Caroline felt her shoulders sag as she leaned back again on the couch. "Oh. Why?"

Richard shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You're going anyway. Are you packed?"

Of all the things Caroline expected of Richard, directly disobeying orders was never one of them. She sat up straight again. "What?"

"Did you pack a bag? We'll be gone four days; I'm guessing you're going to want a change of clothes or two." He was teasing her now, it was obvious in the lilt of his voice and the way his mouth was curving into a small smile.

Caroline felt a smile of her own begin to stretch across her face. "You're serious?"

"Yes. Now go throw your things together. We leave in an hour."

"On the sub?"Caroline questioned, and Richard nodded.

"Last time I checked, that was the way off the island."

Unable to contain her excitement any longer, Caroline jumped off the couch and over to where Richard sat, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you!" Before he could return the embrace, she pulled back, suddenly concerned. "Will Ben be mad at you?"

Richard shrugged and nodded. "Most likely. But we both know he won't do anything to me."

"What about me, though?" she pointed out. "What if he kicks me out of my house again?"

This was mostly a joke, though Richard only smiled. "Ben can't do anything to you, Caroline."

She knew this was true, knew that Richard would never allow it. She wasn't as afraid of Ben as she had been when she was a kid.

"I guess I should pack then."

Caroline had to rummage in the back of her closet for a few moments before she could find something suitable to pack in. She ended up with a small army-green duffle bag that had been her father's. His initials were stitched onto the outside of the canvas, and she ran her fingers over the raised thread briefly.

"Need some help?" Richard was standing in the doorway suddenly, and Caroline looked away from the bag, embarrassed.

"No, I've got it." She rose from her closet floor and set the bag on her bed, beginning to toss things inside. Richard remained in the doorway, watching, and Caroline tried as discreetly as possible to transfer her underwear from the dresser drawer to the bag.

It had been just two years since their trip together out to the statue, since she had so brazenly taken it upon herself to kiss him. It hadn't happened again, though Caroline often day-dreamed of a repeat offense. Instead, her relationship with Richard had simply progressed to a new, more involved level. They spent more time together, and talked more, about themselves, not just books and art and Latin. Although Richard still had yet to tell her many of the secrets surrounding his life, surrounding the island, she had learned a sort of patience over the years…especially after her meeting with Jacob, which hadn't even really been a meeting at all. Though she had been having dreams more recently, in which Jacob tended to appear, but only for fleeting moments. Sometimes it seemed as though he wanted to say something to her, but never got the chance – she always woke up or was interrupted within the dream. Years ago, this would have driven her mad with frustration, but she knew now that if Jacob had something to tell her, he would.

The one person who seemed to object to the time she spent with Richard, especially now that it was obviously consisting of more than just tutoring and instead, a friendship, was of course Ben. Caroline tried to avoid him completely, but it was a small island. When they did cross paths, Ben found multiple ways to display his displeasure with her choices, but Caroline couldn't be bothered with it. For the first time since she could remember, she enjoyed life on the island immensely, and not even Ben's attitude could ruin that.

The main thing she and Richard had yet to address, however, was how they felt about each other. Caroline was pretty sure she had made her intentions fairly obvious already, but Richard either didn't want to discuss it or was waiting for something. What that was, she wasn't sure, but she was willing to wait.

"What about at the medical bay?" Caroline asked suddenly, her hands stilling over the bag as she stuffed her sketchbook on top. "Will they know I'm gone? What if I'm needed?"

Richard shook his head. "I've already discussed it with Ethan. He's aware of the situation."

Since her mother's death, and at Ben's insistence, Caroline had begun a slow process of medical training under the watchful tutelage of Ethan Goodspeed, who had been off-island for some odd years being trained as a surgeon. Caroline was thankful that he had replaced Henry, as he was a much better doctor, but still found herself wary of him. She remembered Ethan as a teenager, just a few years younger than Ben, and they had always been attached at the hip. The one thing they had in common, along with Ben, was that they had all consented to the deaths of their fathers in the purge, although Caroline liked to think she had a little less say in the matter than Ethan or Ben. There was something creepy about him, although he was perfectly nice to her, and certainly knew a lot about medicine. Caroline didn't mind working in the medical bay – it gave her something useful to contribute, and she enjoyed doing the same thing her mother had been passionate about.

"He's totally going to rat us out," Caroline pointed out, but Richard didn't seem too alarmed.

"I wouldn't worry about packing too much more," he said. "I'm sure Tom will want to take you shopping once we arrive in Los Angeles."

Caroline's heart skipped a beat as she zipped up her bag – Los Angeles, California? Shopping? She had never in her life been off the island and had no idea what to expect. She knew that only few took trips, mostly Richard, Tom, and occasionally Ben, but they were all business related. No one was allowed to leave just because they felt like it.

"Um." Caroline scratched her head, suddenly embarrassed. "Is it okay if I change my clothes really quick?" She could feel her cheeks heat up, but Richard had the good grace to look away.

"Of course. Let me take your bag and I'll meet you down at the dock in twenty minutes." Their hands brushed as she handed him the duffel, and Caroline held her breath for a minute. Richard slung the bag over his shoulder and paused. "And Caroline?"

She looked up at him, startled. "Yes?"

"Try to avoid Ben on your way down," he suggested. "We do need to leave on time."

Caroline knew he was referring to her occasional habit of having heated arguments with Ben over things they didn't see eye to eye on. Maybe it was more than occasional.

Richard left, and Caroline changed quickly. She found herself wearing a sundress that she had never worn before, and wasn't sure where it came from, but it was made of loose linen in a dark brown color, and comfortable. It was sleeveless, so she grabbed a khaki jacket to wear on top, in case the submarine was cold. For a few minutes, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, slightly unable to believe that she was finally leaving the island at 19 years old. Didn't normal people travel more?

By taking an alternate route around the edge of the barracks, Caroline made it down to the dock without running into anyone, let alone Ben. Richard and Tom stood out by the portal to the submarine, the only two in sight save for a sub technician she thought was named Nick. Tom and Richard appeared to be having a heated discussion, but quieted as she approached.

"Hi, Caroline," Tom greeted, managing to sound cheery past the frown on his face. "Love the dress. Come on, I'll help you in."

Caroline liked Tom for the most part, it was hard not to. He was a personable guy who got along with everyone. But she couldn't imagine that he was too happy about Richard overthrowing Ben's decision on the matter of her leaving the island. She glanced at Richard as Tom took her arm, but he was busy looking at a piece of paper he had taken out of his pocket.

"Careful here, kiddo," Tom warned, helping to steady her as she lowered herself onto the ladder and began climbing down into the submarine. She was instantly glad for her jacket, as the metal-encased vessel was at least 30 degrees cooler than the balmy island air above.

Nick, the sub guy, met her down at the bottom. "Hey Caroline," he greeted, taking her elbow to help her off the last couple of rungs on the ladder. He was just a few years older than her, but had been recruited more recently, around the same time as the Stanhopes. Ben had been bringing more and more people to the island within the last couple of years, which was troubling to some.

"You're gonna be right over here," Nick was saying, leading her to what looked like a bunk bed with straps attached. "We'll have the juice out for you in a minute."

Caroline didn't know what juice he was talking about, or how long the trip was going to be that she would need to sleep during the journey, but Nick walked off before she could ask any of the questions swimming around in her mind. Tom and Richard were apparently still up top, so she sat down on the bottom bunk, looking around the submarine curiously. She knew little about the sub, other than the fact that it had been under Dharma control before the purge, and it was how her parents had arrived on the island months before her birth.

Before she could speculate more, Richard appeared, and she stood up.

"Tom's pissed off?" she asserted.

"Don't worry about it," Richard replied. "Let me help you up."

"Up where?" she began to ask, but Richard was already lifting her effortlessly, his strong grip on her waist. Caroline forgot what was going on for a moment, only able to focus on the fact that Richard was touching her, when she found that he had simply lifted her onto the top bunk.

"Why do I need to be up here?" Caroline asked, and just then, Nick re-appeared with a clear plastic cup of what looked like orange juice.

"Here you go, Mr. Alpert." Nick handed the cup to Richard and smiled at Caroline before leaving again.

"What is that?" Caroline demanded, suddenly having too many questions to keep up with. "What's going on, Richard?"

"You need to be on the top bunk because that's where the straps are," Richard said. "And you need to be strapped in because the ride is fairly…bumpy." Caroline frowned.

"So I just have to lay here the whole time?"

"Well, you'll be asleep." Richard handed her the cup. "This is orange juice with a pretty powerful sedative mixed in." He paused to smile. "Don't worry, it's tasteless."

Caroline took the cup, staring down at it, then back up at him. "What the hell, Richard?"

"Caroline." Richard touched on her knee, presumably to calm her, but her dress left her legs bare, and his warm hand on her skin almost made her jump. "This is protocol. Like I said, the ride is very rough, and it's not short. You're not going to want to be awake."

Trying to forget about his hand placement, Caroline raised the cup to her nose and sniffed suspiciously. "Are you and Tom going to take it?"

Richard shrugged. "Tom may, but I won't. I'm used to the ride, and I have some work to get done while we travel." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not trying to poison you, Caroline. Trust me, please."

Caroline sighed, wishing he would take his hand off of her damn knee already so she could relax. "I do trust you." With that, she took a tentative sip of the orange juice, half afraid she was going to pass out on the spot.

"Drink it slow," Richard suggested, finally letting go of her. He watched while she finished the orange juice and handed him back the empty cup. "Go ahead and lie down. I'll get you a blanket."

Caroline was already half asleep when Richard returned with a soft dark blue blanket, which he spread over her and tucked in carefully before applying the straps over her torso and legs. She watched him through a blurry gaze as he smiled at her and brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. He said something to her, but his voice seemed too far away to hear as she drifted to into unconsciousness.

When Caroline woke up, it felt like her head had been disconnected from her body and kicked around the sub for seventeen hours. The pain was so acute that she groaned audibly, and tried to reach for her throbbing forehead, only to be stopped short by the restraints across her body. Her initial reaction was to struggle, but the sudden movement jostled her head and caused her to groan again.

However, the motion had freed her arms somehow, and Caroline sat up slowly as the submarine was suddenly flooded with light.

"Mornin', sunshine." Tom's voice boomed through the fog surrounding her, and Caroline opened her eyes fully, realizing for the first time that she was on a much more comfortable surface than she had fallen asleep on. A whirring sound signified the opening of what sounded like plastic blinds, and sunlight filled her vision. Caroline looked around slowly; she was in what appeared to be a hotel room – not the sub. Looking down, she saw that she was wearing the pajamas she had packed, and was tucked into a rather large, plush bed.

"What…happened?" she asked softly, and her own voice filled her head with even more pain. Falling back against the pillows with another groan, she shielded her eyes from the light and prayed for relief.

"Headache?" Tom was bedside now, judging by the closeness of his voice, and peeling one of her hands off of her face, peered down into her eyes. "I got somethin' for ya."

He pressed two pills into her palm and set a plastic water bottle down on the nightstand. "Usually first-timers get a little after-effects from the tranquilizer. Nothin' to worry about."

Caroline swallowed the pills quickly, chasing them with a quick gulp of water. To her surprise, almost instantly the pain ebbed, and she was able to open her eyes completely and glance around again.

"Where are we?" she croaked, her throat hoarse. "How did we get here?"

"Well, we came in on the sub," Tom replied, sitting down in a chair near the bed, taking a newspaper off the nightstand to peruse. "And we're in Los Angeles, in a hotel."

"How long have I been asleep?" Caroline questioned, looking down again and wondering who had changed her out of her dress. If it had been Richard, she may never be able to look him in the eye again.

"Eh, hard to say," Tom said cryptically, flipping the newspaper over. "If it helps, it's about 8 am on Saturday, September 8th, 1999."

Caroline frowned; she was sure they had left the island on the morning of the 6th. Had she really been asleep for almost two whole days? Was there a time change from the island to Los Angeles? She was pretty sure that if she asked, Tom would probably just glance over the subject, so she saved her breath.

"How did _I_ get _here_?" she questioned. Tom chuckled.

"Well, Richard carried you part of the way, then I carried you the rest. Don't worry, I was the one who put your PJs on." He winked at her. "I kept my eyes closed."

Caroline wondered just how suspicious it looked to have two men carrying an unconscious girl into a hotel downtown LA, but figured they probably had ways of getting around unwanted attention. Finally feeling able to throw the covers off and swing her legs over, Caroline scooted to the edge of the bed. "I'm sure. Where's Richard?"

"He's off on some business." Tom tossed the newspaper back down and stood up. "You and I get the whole day together to experience the full beauty of LA. So why don't you go on and get ready, and I'll be next door when you're done." He waved and disappeared through the adjoining door he had entered from.

Caroline sat on the bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading into the bathroom to shower. The hot water seemed to wash away the last remnants of the fog that surrounded her after drinking the sedative-laced orange juice on the sub, which was officially the last thing she could remember doing. It felt weird to have lost so many hours, so weird that she had almost forgot exactly where she was…she was finally off the island, in Los Angeles, California. As she dried her long hair with one of the starchy hotel towels, Caroline wondered just how mad Ben was back at home.

Once she was dressed, Caroline knocked lightly on the door separating her and Tom's rooms before entering. Tom was inside, sitting on the edge of one of the two beds in the room, clicking through channels on the television propped up on the dresser. He glanced at her and motioned towards the box with a shake of his head.

"Not watching this crap every day makes you realize just how terrible it all is." He clicked the set off and stood up, tossing the remote aside. "Then again, I guess you've never seen any TV at all, isn't that right?"

Caroline just shrugged. There were TVs at the barracks, of course, and she had vague memories of watching movies with other Dharma families at events when she was a kid. "Not really, but I guess I'm not missing much."

"Not at all," Tom replied, picking up a jacket slung over a nearby chair. "I'll have to pick you out some good movies to take home with you." Caroline nodded and glanced around the room. The bed closest to the door clearly belonged to Tom, but the bed next to the window looked as though it had been slept in as well, and there was a black suitcase set on the chair next to it.

"Are you and Richard roommates?" she questioned, following Tom when he motioned her towards the door.

"Yeah. It's a relatively short trip, so it's not such a big deal." Tom ushered her out of the room with a hand on her back and began to lead her down a long hallway. "Thankfully, we were able to get an adjoining room on such short notice." He cast a sidelong glance at her, as if to remind her just how illegal her trip off-island was. Caroline ignored him, choosing instead to admire the bank of elevators they'd arrived at.

"You really are fresh off the boat," Tom remarked, laughing at her as she inspected the buttons inside the elevator.

"So what's this trip for, anyway?" Caroline asked, watching the floors drop through the glass back of the elevator that faced out into the center of the hotel, revealing a skylighted lobby some 20 flights below, complete with an indoor pond and waterfall.

"Business," Tom replied. "Mostly Richard's." Caroline glanced at him as the elevator _ding_ signified their arrival at the bottom floor.

"So then why are you here?"

Tom smiled. "I guess you could say I'm more of an, ah, babysitter."

He led Caroline through the lavishly decorated lobby and out two automatic doors, where a shiny new rental car waited for them. A valet boy stood nearby and held the door open for Caroline to climb inside. He was about her age and didn't miss his chance to very obviously look her up and down. Caroline blushed as she slid onto the leather passenger seat; she wasn't used to this kind of attention. She watched as Tom slipped the boy a tip and climbed into the driver's seat before jolting out of the parking lot at top speed. Caroline found herself holding onto the side of the door tightly. The only car she'd ever ridden in was a Dharma van, and they didn't even go near 50 mph.

"How can you be a babysitter?" she asked, looking away from the streets whirring by to watch Tom driving instead. "I'm not even supposed to be here, and you were always going."

Tom smirked, thankfully keeping his eyes on the road. "Well, I wouldn't say my official position is to be _your _babysitter, Caroline. But I certainly don't mind the extra work." Caroline frowned – what did he mean?

"Are you saying that you're babysitting _Richard_?" she demanded. "Tom, are you a spy for Ben?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied, finally slowing down for a stoplight. "I'm not spying on anyone. Richard knows why I'm here."

"So Ben doesn't trust Richard or something?" Caroline wasn't too sure when this new development had occurred – Ben had known Richard since he was a 10-year-old boy. "Why?"

Tom just shook his head. "I can't get into this with you, Caroline. But I will point out the fact that Richard did nothing less than smuggle you off the island a couple days ago."

"So what?" Caroline demanded. "He was only looking out for me and what _I_ want, which is something Ben never—"

"Like I said, we're not going into this," Tom interrupted, his voice turned stern. "You're here now, let's try to enjoy the day."

Even as Caroline silently seethed, she turned away to stare out the window and found herself forgetting about why she was mad as the sights of Los Angeles flew by. She had never imagined a city so big and full of cars and people. How did anyone ever manage to get where they were going?

True to his word, Tom didn't allow her to bring up the subject of Ben for the rest of the day – he simply kept her too busy. He took her to every shopping mall and specialty store imaginable, and insisted she try on clothes, shoes, and jewelry all day, buying everything she said she liked without question. Caroline only half-wondered where he got all the American cash he continuously pulled from his pocket…apparently there were funds for things like this. It wasn't long before she found herself exhausted, even after Tom made her eat lunch at one of the overcrowded and odorous eating venues within the mall. But he kept dragging her from store to store, and Caroline started to wonder if his orders were to kill her slowly throughout the day simply by wearing her out. She was slumped over on a bench, watching Tom try on belts in some menswear store, when she finally got her reprieve.

"Whoops, we're gonna be late," he announced, palming some money to the sales attendant. "Ring 'em all up, please."

Caroline didn't even have any energy to ask what they would be late for, instead following Tom obediently through the shopping center, weighed down with bags of every size. Miraculously, Tom managed to fit all of their purchases into the small car as Caroline poured herself into the front seat. She felt as though she had downed about a gallon of that submarine orange juice.

"We're taking the scenic route back," she heard Tom announce. "Take a look at some of these California beaches."

Caroline managed to force her eyes open to gaze out her window towards the ocean Tom referenced. Unlike the crystal blue waters on the island, these waves were brown and green, and the dark sand was littered with people stretched out in every direction. Caroline was unimpressed, and closed her eyes again rather quickly.

They arrived at the hotel in what seemed like no time, and Caroline found her door being opened by the same valet worker as before, who clearly wasn't missing another chance to check her out. Caroline ignored him, simply grumpy at this point. She was tired of shopping, of California. And she missed Richard. Where the hell was he, anyway?

Tom slipped the valet little more cash, instructing him to unload their bags and deliver them to the bellboy to be taken up to their rooms. He then intercepted Caroline on the way to the elevators and took her elbow to steer her the opposite direction.

"Tom, I don't want to shop anymore," Caroline complained, unable to resist his dragging her across the lobby.

"Calm down. We're meeting Richard for dinner," Tom announced, motioning towards the hotel restaurant. "And trust me, honey, this ain't gonna be nothin' like Dharma issue food. You're gonna love it."

Caroline didn't really have a problem with Dharma food, but didn't argue as Tom led her through the full restaurant. Eventually they came to a table where Richard already waited, rising as they approached. Despite her fatigue, Caroline felt relief at the sight of him. He was wearing a suit, which she had never seen before. On island, he always wore the same thing, clean pressed pants and some kind of button-up shirt. As long as she could remember, he'd looked the same in every way.

But here, off the island, he looked just a little bit different. And it wasn't just the suit. As Richard smiled at her and pulled a chair out from the table for her to sit in, she couldn't help but wonder if she looked different off the island, too.

"Sorry we're late," Tom said, taking the seat across from Caroline. Richard sat down next to her, motioning a nearby waiter over.

"Not a problem. I was running a little late myself." Richard handed Caroline a menu as the waiter appeared, asking for drink orders. Caroline echoed Richard's request for ice water, only because she wasn't sure what else to order.

"I think Caroline's seen enough of California," Tom announced, taking a chunk of bread from the basket in the center of the table. Richard glanced at her with a smile.

"Is that true?" His eyes seemed to sparkle at her, and Caroline stifled a yawn.

"No. Well, maybe," she responded. "I just…don't understand it."

"Understand what?"

"There's so many people, just…everywhere. And they're just pushing and moving and driving and always going to the next place. And that's all." Caroline shrugged. "What's the point?"

Tom smirked, taking a bite out of the bread in his hand and motioning at her. "She's a philosopher, this one," he announced through the food in his mouth. Caroline rolled her eyes, taking a long sip of the water the waiter delivered.

For most of the meal, Tom and Richard discussed mundane things, like the weather or the traffic or American political affairs. Caroline knew they were purposefully avoiding talking about anything important relating to the real reason the trip was taking place, but was simply too tired to object. She stared at the menu for a long time, realizing very quickly that most of the foods that were listed were completely foreign to her. Eventually, she closed it and asked Richard to choose something for her.

The food, when it arrived, was enjoyable to an extent, but heavily sauced and rich. Caroline felt her stomach begin to hurt through the last few bites, and set her fork down; as tasteful as the food was, she missed the familiar flavors of fresh fish, pineapple, mango, and even the bland Dharma cans and boxes. She watched Tom shovel his own meal in his mouth and wondered just how he could manage. Tom wasn't a native of the island, but one of Ben's recruits. She knew he was from one of the southern states, and probably grew up eating this way. She couldn't even begin to imagine such a life.

After Richard paid for dinner with a wad of cash pulled from his pocket, similar to Tom's stash, she was the first to stand and begin making her way through the crowded room towards the lobby and elevators. She assumed that Richard and Tom were following her, but couldn't care too much…all she wanted was to lay down. The elevator ride up to their topmost floor was silent save for Tom's working at his teeth with a toothpick and Caroline watched the floors stack up below them soundlessly.

"I guess I wore ya out today, kid," Tom announced, sliding a card above the doorknob to Caroline's room to allow her entry. She waited until the light blinked green before pushing the door open.

"Yeah. Thanks Tom. See ya." Caroline let the door close behind her and immediately stripped off her clothes for another shower. She didn't feel like herself – as though California had left some invisible residue on her skin and she couldn't wait to scrub it off. She realized as she was combing out her wet hair that she missed home – wanted to be back on the island, more than anything else. Damn it. Ben had won.

Caroline wrapped herself in one of the provided terry bathrobes hanging in the bathroom, realizing that the shower had revived her some and she wasn't quite ready for sleep. Instead, she found the TV remote and spread out on the bed. She only lasted about 15 minutes searching through the available hotel channels before giving up, turning the TV off and tossing the remote aside. Tom was right – television was crap.

In the silent room, if she listened carefully, she could hear the undertones of Tom and Richard's voices next door. But even when she pressed her ear up against the wall, she couldn't hear exactly what they were discussing. Instead, she fished her sketchbook out of her duffel bag and sat back down on the bed, flipping to a blank page and beginning to draw.

Most of the time when Caroline drew things, she wasn't sure what they were until she was finished. All she knew was that it made her feel better, made her feel like home. She wasn't sure how long she'd been working at the page in front of her when a soft knock sounded on the adjoining door.

"Come in." Caroline didn't look up as the door opened, studying the page in front of her with a frown. She had drawn the goddamn shopping mall. Of course.

"I thought you would be fast asleep by now."

Richard's voice distracted her from the drawing in front of her, and Caroline looked up as she turned the page over. He had removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie, the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he looked just as tired as she.

"I took a shower," Caroline announced, realizing very quickly this fact was probably made obvious by the bathrobe she was wearing. The only thing she was wearing. "I guess it, um….woke me up."

Richard nodded, either not seeming to notice her attire or hiding it very well. He sat in the chair that Tom had occupied that morning, only glancing at the newspaper that had been left on the table.

"So, I'm guessing you didn't have a good day?" he questioned, and Caroline shrugged, nodding towards the piles of shopping bags in the corner.

"Shopping is…kind of boring. And I don't even know where I'm going to wear all of these clothes."

Richard smiled. "I'm afraid it's my fault. Tom likes to indulge himself on these rare trips, and I did kind of throw you with him for the day. I apologize."

Caroline looked down at the blank page she had turned to and picked up her pencil again. "It's fine." She glanced up at Richard once more before starting to draw again. "Did you know that Ben doesn't trust you?"

Richard was silent for a long time, but Caroline didn't look up to see his face, instead focusing on the page in front of her.

"Is that what Tom told you?"

"He told me he was here to babysit you, essentially." Caroline flipped her pencil over to erase a wayward mark and looked up at him. His expression was stern but unyielding. "He wouldn't let me talk about it for very long."

"Suffice it to say that Ben doesn't trust hardly anyone these days." Richard's voice was cold, but not directed at her. "Regardless, I promise you that I am still here doing his bidding, Caroline. Until Jacob specifies otherwise, Ben is still our leader."

"Maybe you should tell him that." Caroline finished her outline drawing and appraised it silently. It was a very rough sketch of Richard sitting in the chair, in his suit, looking exhausted. At least, that had been the intention. Instead, he'd just turned out looking sad.

"Did you just draw me?" he questioned, rising from his chair to get a closer look. Caroline blushed, turning the notebook around for him to see as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. She'd been showing Richard her drawings since she was a kid…in fact, he was the only one anymore who really ever got to see them. "Do I really look this haggard?" he asked, studying the drawing carefully.

Caroline shrugged. "A little bit." Richard scratched his head with a sigh.

"Thanks for being honest."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Caroline began to feel more and more aware of the proximity of their bodies coupled with her lack of clothing beneath the bathrobe. She wondered if Richard felt the same way; she could never tell what he was feeling and it drove her nuts.

"Caroline, I have an errand to run tomorrow morning," Richard announced finally. "And I was wondering if you would accompany me."

Caroline paused, and thought of what Ben would say, of what Tom probably already had said. "Yes. I would like that."

Richard nodded. "Good." He cleared his throat and Caroline thought he was about to announce his exit, but instead, stayed put. "Caroline, we need to talk about when you kissed me."

She could only hope that her expression did not convey the shock she felt inside. Caroline pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, as if that would protect her from how embarrassed she was probably about to be. _Stand your ground_, she thought. _It wasn't a mistake_.

"Oh. Sure." To her surprise, her voice sounded as clear and confident as a bell.

Richard, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling. "You need to know that…while I didn't object to it, I don't think you really were able to…think about what you were doing."

Caroline frowned. "Yes, I was."

"But you were upset, you were crying."

"So?" she countered quickly. "The reason I was crying was completely unrelated to the reason I kissed you. I was upset before I met with Jacob, not after. After I met with him –"

"Caroline, Jacob wasn't even there," he interrupted.

"Would you let me finish, please?" At his nod, she continued. "I know that I met with him, even though he wasn't there, because of how I felt afterward. I felt…like I knew my purpose. Three years ago, I probably would have wanted to come on this trip and never go back to the island." She paused, looking around the room. "But now I know that I do, because it's my home. And I can admit that. Because I know what I want now."

Caroline put her hand on top of Richard's as it rested on the mattress, and she was impressed that she wasn't even trembling. He looked at their hands, still frowning himself.

"You don't know what you're asking," he murmured. "I can't give you want you want, Caroline."

"I'm not a little girl, Richard," she replied, scooting closer to him. "Even though you clearly see me as one."

"I don't." Richard paused, his gaze on the carpet, refusing to meet hers. "You make it fairly obvious that you are a woman now, Caroline. Quite consistently."

This made Caroline smile – finally, she knew what he was thinking. Finally, her efforts paid off in something more than a calm smile or a brief platonic hug. "Then why can't you treat me like one? You _can_ give me what I want, Richard. If it's what you want."

He finally looked up at her. "Caroline."

She found herself fingering the collar of his shirt, seconds away from tugging on it to pull him closer. "Yes?"

"What I don't want is to hurt you. I promised your mother I would keep you safe," he reminded, reaching up to still her hand on his shirt. "I plan to keep that promise."

"And you have," Caroline said. "Richard, you've protected me all my life. I know you were there when I was born, even. It was probably only your influence that kept Ben from leading me out in the jungle and leaving me for dead as a kid. It's because of you that I was able to finally meet with Jacob, or even be here right now."

Richard was quiet for a few moments, and Caroline was beginning to think that she had won, finally pleased that all she was wearing was a bathrobe. Then he spoke again, his voice even more serious than before.

"Have you ever spoken to Jacob about me?"

She frowned. "Not…specifically." He was ruining the mood.

"Caroline, I can't have a life with you," Richard said. "As much as I may want to, it's not possible." His hand was still on top of hers and he squeezed it gently. "I won't hurt you like that."

This was something Caroline had considered, many times, but she trusted that Jacob had a plan for them. She wasn't sure what it was, maybe it wasn't even a good plan, but she knew it existed. Either way, she wasn't giving up here. She had loved Richard for as long as she could remember, and it wasn't something she could just move on from.

"Okay, so that's what you _don't_ want," she conceded, using her other hand to slide behind his neck. Part of her couldn't believe how brazen she was being, but another part relished in it. "But what _do_ you want, Richard? Right now?"

His hand tightened over hers again, his eyes hardened like steel. "Caroline." The way his voice wrapped around her name this time was different, and she knew she was winning him over.

"Richard?" Her hand on the back of his neck pulled him closer so that he was practically leaning over her on the bed. "What do you want?"

She could feel his breath hot on her neck and prayed he would answer how she wanted him to.

Richard was silent for several long seconds, long enough for Caroline to panic, when his voice finally replied in a rough murmur.

"I want you." And his lips descended on hers.

Caroline found herself wishing the moment would never end. She'd never kissed anyone besides Richard and she never wanted to. He was perfect, in every way, and she couldn't imagine any other man could ever compare. The way he kissed her was effortless, her weight balanced against his hand on the small of her back, his other hand holding her head in place, his thumb stroking her jaw softly. She felt powerless. But in a good way.

They kissed for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Either way, it ended all too soon for Caroline when Tom hollered through the door, accompanied by a booming knock.

"Caroline? Is Richard in there with you?"

They separated and Caroline struggled to find her voice. Richard scooted away from her and cleared his throat. "I'm in here, Tom."

The door opened and Tom stuck his head into the room. Caroline busied herself pretending to search for something in the nightstand drawer; she knew her flushed face and swollen lips would give away what they had been doing instantly.

"Ah." Tom cleared his own throat, only serving to make the atmosphere in the room even more awkward. "You got a phone call."

"Alright. I'll be there in a minute."

The door closed softly with Tom's departure and Caroline turned back around to face Richard, adjusting her bathrobe. She smiled.

"That was a close one," she whispered. Richard couldn't help but smile back.

"It was." He sighed and stood up, smoothing out the front of his shirt. "Caroline, I—"

"Please don't say anything about how that was a mistake," she pleaded, standing up as well. "Please."

Richard smiled again. "I wasn't going to."

"Oh." Caroline blushed and stepped closer to him, playing with the belt of her robe. "What were you going to say then?"

He stared at her for a few silent moments. "I…like you very much, Caroline."

Caroline felt her heart well up with something unknown. "I like you, too. Very much."

"Good." They smiled at each other for a few moments. "I have to go."

Richard reached out for her, pulling her into his arms effortlessly. Caroline rested her head against his chest and recognized for the moment just how right she felt there.

"Goodnight, Caroline." Richard kissed the top of her head and released her, offering one last smile before leaving the room. Caroline sat down on the edge of the soft hotel bed, unable to stop beaming.

-

***** Please review and tell me that you liked this, or hated it, or how much you enjoyed Richard looking all harried and bedraggled on this week's episode (I did…a lot). Thanks!!


	11. Interlude

**So this is really an interlude, because of how short it is. But it's kind of necessary, and couldn't really be merged anywhere else. Expect a (real) update in the next couple of day perhaps.**

-

The church was full; it was Sunday morning after all. Richard could tell Caroline was uncomfortable as she clutched his arm upon entering the sanctuary. She certainly wasn't used to seeing this many people in one place before, and he knew that she was tired of LA, ready to get back on the sub and go home.

He led her to one of the empty pews in the very back of the church, ushering her in with a gentle hand on the small of her back. She was wearing a simple black dress, undoubtedly something Tom had picked out for her. Her hair was pulled back off of her face and she was wearing just a little bit of makeup, enough to accent her green eyes and make them seem wider, brighter. She was beautiful, but this wasn't her element. Richard preferred her on the island, their home.

They listened together as the congregation sang hymn after hymn. He hadn't explained to her where they were or why, which was undoubtedly why she was casting confused sidelong glances at him every few minutes.

Richard spotted Eloise hovering in the foyer just as the minister instructed the congregation to be seated. He squeezed Caroline's hand as she sat down, and slipped out of the auditorium.

"Hello, Richard," Eloise greeted, holding out her hand for him to shake. "Who's the girl?"

Richard glanced over his shoulder to see Caroline watching them curiously; she looked away as soon as he caught her gaze. "That's Caroline Hawthorne. Her parents were—"

"Dharma, yes, I know." Eloise raised her eyebrows. "Charles had mentioned her before….well, you know."

"Yes." Richard nodded in brief acknowledgement of the unspoken mention of Charles' removal from the island. He knew that Eloise and Charles were estranged to this day, so he doubted Eloise felt any sort of outrage. "Shall we?"

"Of course." Eloise turned on her heel and led Richard through a nearby side door. He'd been to the Lamp Post station before, of course, but long ago, when it was still under Dharma control. Now, to see it in all of its glory, stations abuzz with activity, the pendulum ever swinging out the location of the island…was almost overwhelming.

"Do you have the list?" Eloise questioned over her shoulder, removing a binder from a nearby bookshelf. Richard pulled the folded piece of paper from his suit jacket and handed it to her. "Thank you. I trust all arrangements went well yesterday?"

"They did." Richard put his hands in his pocket and watched Eloise review the list before filing it away carefully. "Ben's planning to recruit a doctor fairly soon."

"You don't say?" Eloise sounded wholly uninterested. "To solve the so-called fertility crisis?"

"I expect so."

"And are you telling me this because you plan to volunteer as a subject?" She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised again in condemnation. "That girl is in love with you."

Richard didn't react. "Is that so?"

Eloise sighed in disgust, putting the binder away from where she'd pulled it out. "Don't be so blasé, Richard. It's sickeningly obvious. She's far too young."

He laughed at that. "That's slightly inevitable, Eloise. Weren't you as well?" Eloise threw a glare at him.

"That's not what this is about. Obviously that would never have worked out. Look at me. I have white hair, and here you stand looking as plain as the day I met you." Eloise busied herself straightening some papers on a nearby desk. "I'm simply warning you."

"I've been alive far too long to require a warning from you, Eloise."

"Of course you have." Their meeting had been soured, and Richard found himself itching to leave, to get back to Caroline, to return home.

"Well, if there's nothing else." Richard nodded curtly and began to turn for the exit, but Eloise stopped him.

"Did Jacob say anything about how long all of this would take?" she asked, motioning towards the binder. "Until they…arrive on the island?"

Richard shook his head, only half looking back at her. "Not exactly. He indicated years, perhaps."

Eloise scowled and sighed. "Sometimes I can't help but think that maybe…he was right. About bringing—" Richard didn't let her finish.

"Don't, Eloise." He had spun around to face her again and his voice was cold, even. "Don't you dare."

She closed her eyes, indignant. "I didn't mean—"

"I don't care what you meant," Richard snapped. "I trust Jacob wholly."

Eloise held up her hands in surrender. "Yes, of course. You're right. My apologies."

Richard turned to leave without another word, Eloise's parting "good luck", trailing behind him, forgotten.

-

**Just FYI, I'm always flattered when people add me to their "favorite stories" or "story alerts" but, guess what? I don't know what you like about the story unless you review and tell me. Review = surefire way to get me to update. Just sayin'.**


	12. Chapter 9

**Wow, guys…thanks for the awesome reviews last week...and for such a measly update, too. It is much appreciated! I would have updated with this sooner but I was out of town this weekend. Anyway, this chapter is mostly fluff and nothing necessarily plot-developing…but oh well! Enjoy, and review!**

**-**

Chapter Nine: "Arrival"

Richard felt heavy with fatigue as he stepped up to Caroline's porch and approached her front door. The sounds of laughter coming from inside alerted him that she may not be alone in the house, so he knocked and waited before entering, despite the difficulty of patience. He had been in Miami for over a week, after all.

When the door swung open, Caroline was not behind it. Instead, 12-year-old Alex stared back at him, her dark hair dusted with something white. She smiled at him, and Richard smiled back.

"Hi, Alex."

"Hi." Leaning away from the door, Alex hollered in the direction of the kitchen. "Caro-line! It's Rich-ard!"

Her singsong voice made Richard laugh. Even at her young age, Alex was clever enough to ascertain the nature of his relationship with Caroline.

"So, you're back?" Alex asked, tossing her long dark curls over one shoulder.

Richard nodded. "Yeah. I'm back."

Caroline appeared behind Alex then, wearing an apron and holding a stainless steel bowl in one arm. Her apron and arms were smeared with the same substance that was sprinkled on Alex, which Richard now assumed was flour. Upon sight of him, she smiled widely and passed the bowl off to Alex.

"Why don't you go finish stirring this? All the ingredients need to be mixed together before we can scoop them out." Alex took the bowl and smirked at Caroline before disappearing into the kitchen.

Caroline brushed off her arms and approached the doorway, leaning against it casually. "Hi."

"Hi yourself." Richard knew she was being deliberately nonchalant; most everyone knew of their relationship at this point by its slow development over the last few years. But Caroline was still under pressure from Ben about it, and she was reluctant to be at ease in public.

"How was the trip?" she asked, tugging at a loose string on her apron. Richard put his hands in his pockets to avoid taking her into his arms – he would respect her wishes, even when all he wanted was to do the opposite.

"It was fine. More difficult than expected, but the end result was what Ben wanted." The last thing Richard wanted to tell her was that he'd had to arrange a man getting hit by a bus in order to get what Ben wanted, so he left that out.

"So she's coming?" Caroline questioned, and Richard nodded his affirmation.

"She's here, in fact. Came in on the sub with us ten minutes ago."

Caroline raised her eyebrows. "Has she met Ben yet?"

"Yes. He's showing her to her temporary living quarters right now, down by the medical bay, giving her time to settle in," Richard replied. "They're fixing up the house next door for her, but it won't be ready until next week."

"The house next door to me?" Caroline peered out the door to glance at the building in question. "So we'll be neighbors?"

"Looks like it. And working together, as well."

Caroline opened her mouth to say something but Alex's shout from the kitchen cut her off.

"I'm done stirring it!"

Caroline pressed her lips together and shrugged at Richard. "I'm teaching her to make cookies."

"Caroline!"

"I heard you!" she shouted back. "Just…stir it some more!"

Alex's groan was the response and Caroline rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Richard took the opportunity to reach up and wipe away a streak of flour on her cheek, lingering a few more moments than necessary. Her skin flushed under his hand and she reached up to touch his wrist.

"What's her name?"

Richard had forgotten what they were talking about completely. "Who?"

She cocked her head. "The doctor."

"Oh. Juliet. Juliet Burke." Caroline nodded.

"Is she pretty?" she questioned, looking down at their entwined hands.

"See for yourself; I'm sure Ben will be introducing her around tomorrow."

"So that's a yes."

"That's you putting words in my mouth."

Caroline met his eyes and matched his smile. "I guess so." Something clunked loudly in the kitchen and she winced. "I did my part by promising Ben I'd keep Alex busy today while he was off gallivanting with Dr. Burke."

"I see. What else have you two been doing besides cookies?"

"Tom brought us back a bunch of DVDs from his last trip," Caroline replied. "We watched one already, and we'll probably put in another one while the cookies are baking."

"Well, I should probably leave you to it, then." Richard squeezed her hand and was about to let go; they could reunite officially later on, he was in no hurry. But Caroline tightened her grip.

"Alex is going home around 4:00. I was hoping you could…come by for dinner." A sly smile started to sneak its way across her face and Richard realized she'd probably been planning this all along.

"Have you been reading those cookbooks I brought you?" He'd run out of good ideas for books to bring her from his travels; she'd read all his favorites long ago. So he'd started collecting cookbooks from around the world, figuring they were a good thing for her to have around. There wasn't much one could do to the Dharma issue food without some creativity.

"And practicing," Caroline said. "How do you feel about paella?"

Richard smiled. "I love paella, Caroline."

"I know you do," she said, her sly grin coming full into fruition. "Be here at 6."

He could think of no better way to celebrate his return. "Can't wait."

Later that night, upon Richard's return to Caroline's house, he could see the flicker of candlelight from the front window. The soft strains of the Spanish opera _Goyescas_ floated out through the curtains as he stepped up onto the porch, and Richard shook his head in surprise. She was really going all out for this.

Upon his knock, the door opened almost instantaneously, and Caroline appeared for only a brief moment behind it before disappearing around the corner again.

"Come in!" she called from the kitchen. "I'm just about…ready!"

Richard let the door close behind him, glancing around the living room curiously. Besides the candlelight and the music, there was something different about the feeling in the room. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, not yet anyway.

Caroline reappeared with a flourish, removing the same apron from before and tossing it over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back and twisted away from her face, a few wayward strands escaping and trailing down near her collarbone. Her dress accentuated her shoulders and the dark green color brought out her eyes, even in the dim light. She flushed as Richard handed her the orange flower he had plucked on his walk through the jungle, and promptly dropped it as he pulled her into his arms.

"I missed you," he murmured into her hair, inhaling the coconut, ocean, sand scent that was all hers and all home. Her arms tightened around his waist and her breath was warm against his neck. He didn't want to be anywhere else.

"You were gone forever," she stated, pulling back slightly to meet his eyes. "I was afraid…well, never mind."

Caroline started to pull away but Richard caught her wrists. "You were afraid of…?"

Again, her flush was visible in the dark room. "I thought that maybe…Ben would find some way to keep you off the island, away from me." She shook her head, dislodging another strand of hair. "It's dumb, I know."

The fact that Ben made her worry this way made Richard highly uncomfortable, but part of him knew that he couldn't blame her. "Ben could never keep us apart, Caroline."

She stared at him for a moment, disbelieving, and opened her mouth as if to argue, but shook her head instead, bending down to pick up the abandoned flower. "Dinner's almost ready. Come sit down."

Motioning him into the dining room area, Richard found the table set with more candles and some fine china that he had never seen in her house before. He sat down as Caroline reappeared with her flower in a small vase of water.

"This was my parents' wedding china," she announced, setting the flower down in the middle of the table and pausing to finger the gold-rimmed edge of the plates. "I've…never used it before. I'm not even sure if they ever did."

"Sure you want to waste it on me?" Richard asked, and she smiled.

"Absolutely. Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

It was obvious that Caroline took immense pride in placing the dish of paella on the table, and Richard allowed her to dish some out for him, along with salad, and fill his glass with some of the standard Dharma red wine. She sat down across from him, spreading her napkin in her lap and watching nervously as he took his first bite.

Richard had enjoyed many a dish of paella over the years of his life, and could safely say it was one of his favorite meals. It wasn't easy to make, and he wasn't even sure how she had managed to gather all of the ingredients it required, but it was clear that she had tried her hardest. It wasn't the best paella he'd ever had, or the worst, but it was certainly the most meaningful.

"Well?" Caroline breathed, her hand fluttering up to her mouth anxiously. Richard couldn't hide his smile.

"It's wonderful."

Caroline's tense shoulders relaxed then, and she radiated after that, seemingly growing more and more content each time Richard took a bite, and positively beamed when he asked for seconds. She ate hardly anything herself, but Richard allowed it, knowing that the meal wasn't really as much about food as it was her having the chance to show her appreciation for him.

When they finished, Richard having polished off most of the paella all by himself, Caroline cleared their plates and carried them into the kitchen, humming a soft tune under her breath. Richard sat still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of a fully satisfied appetite. It was rare that he ate much besides fish, fruit, or canned Dharma delicacies, unless he was dining with Ben or Caroline or someone else on the island who had the luxury of a kitchen.

Eventually he rose and joined Caroline. She was leaning against the counter, filling the sink with hot water and dish soap. Her weight was balanced on one leg while the bare foot of the other rubbed the back of her calf absentmindedly. She was staring out the dark window and still humming. Richard watched her a few moments longer before stepping up to the sink to join her, reaching into the soapy water to retrieve one of the dishes. Snapped out of her reverie, she looked up to smile at him.

"You don't have to help."

"I want to."

Caroline took the clean dish he handed to her and wiped it dry with the towel in her hand.

"Thank you for making me dinner," Richard said. "It's good to be back here with you."

"What, you mean you didn't enjoy your trip gallivanting around Florida?" Caroline teased, taking the next clean dish from him. "Beach hopping and fine-dining and all that?"

Since her trip off the island a year ago, Caroline had not even tried to leave again, even when Richard offered her the chance to accompany him on one of his trips which were turning out to be a little more than occasional. He knew it wasn't because of Ben's disapproval – Caroline held little regard for his opinions, especially as of late. But she just didn't have the desire.

"_I guess I thought I could find somewhere else I wanted to be if I left," _ she had told him after the first trip. _"But I know that this is home now. I didn't before…now I definitely know." _

Deep down, Richard was more than glad that she wanted to stay on the island. It was his home and always would be. Leaving was not an option for him, and knowing that it wasn't for Caroline either made him feel relieved and content.

"I did enjoy some great food," he admitted, handing off another dish to her. "But there's nowhere in Miami that could make a paella like yours." Caroline flushed a deep red at his compliment.

"You're just saying that to—"

Caroline's voice cut off abruptly as her fingers lost their grip on the slippery plate Richard was handing her. The china dish glanced off the edge of the counter and crashed to the linoleum floor, shattering instantly.

"Damn," Caroline muttered, starting to bend down to start picking up the pieces, but Richard stopped her.

"You're not wearing shoes," he reminded, motioning towards her feet and ankles, where spots of blood were already forming from tiny slivers of ceramic that had sliced her exposed skin. "I'll clean it up. Come on."

Without giving her a chance to argue, Richard lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen and into the living room. He set her down gently on the couch and examined the small cuts on her ankles. "They're not deep. Here." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket that Caroline had never seen before and pressed it to her bleeding skin.

"You carry a handkerchief?" she questioned, and Richard nodded. Caroline laughed. "That's weird."

"Well, I don't exactly keep boxes of Kleenex in my tent."

He stopped dabbing at her wounds when Caroline's hand rested over his.

"Richard."

"Yes?" She waited until he found her eyes with his to speak.

"Why are you still living out there?" she asked softly and he frowned.

"Living where?"

"In the jungle." Her hand tightened over his. "It's been a year, Richard. I…miss you when you're not here. I like having you nearby."

Richard smiled. "I like being here too, Caroline."

She didn't release him. "Then _stay_ here. There's more than enough room for the both of us."

The weight of what she was asking hit Richard suddenly. "Caroline, I…don't know if that's possible."

"Why not?" Her hand began to slide up his forearm, his shoulder, stopped to rest against the side of his neck. "You don't want to?"

"Of course I want to." He reached for her other hand and held it loosely within his. "You need to think about what that would mean, Caroline."

She blushed, her eyes leaving his and trailing down to focus on the top button of his shirt. "I have thought about it."

Richard didn't know if he could handle this conversation right now. They had been apart for so long and he was feeling almost tipsy from being so close to her, smelling her, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. He wasn't up to resist this tonight, as he had so many other nights.

"Why are you making me wait for so long, Richard?" Caroline continued, her thumb stroking the stubble along his jaw line. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not a kid anymore?"

Richard sighed, unconsciously leaning into her touch. "I know you're not a kid, Caroline. But this is about more than that. You know what's been happening to the women on the island, and there's no guarantees that Juliet will be able to fix what's going on. That means we would have to be extremely careful." He opened his eyes, finding her gaze again. "I will _not_ put you in danger."

"I know," she replied. "And we will be careful. But what else is stopping us?" She leaned forward, winding her arm around his neck and pulling him closer. "And don't say Ben." Caroline pressed a soft kiss to his temple and Richard wrapped his arms around her in turn, his head against her chest. "I love you, Richard."

She'd said it to him before, wasn't afraid to. But every time she did, Richard felt a myriad of emotions all at once. First and foremost, a reciprocating feeling, an overflowing of love and adoration for her filled his heart. But there was also that fear, that knowledge that she would someday be separated from him…it was enough to make him want to pull her close and never let go.

"I love you, too, Caroline." He pulled away just far enough to lock eyes with her again. "Are you sure?"

Her smile said everything. "Absolutely."

Richard smoothed a stray piece of hair off of her face and held her face in his hands for a moment, examining her. She certainly looked sure, and she looked happy, and she looked in love. She didn't look scared. So how could he be?

He kissed her then, and it was a desperate feeling, as though he couldn't possibly get close enough to her. She slid off the couch and onto the floor with him, her legs straddling his lap and bringing the warmth of her body even closer. Richard hadn't felt a woman like this in years, too many years to count, and knowing that it was finally Caroline felt like arriving home after a long, unsteady journey.

She pulled her mouth from his just long enough to stand and pull him up with her. She began leading him down the hallway towards her bedroom, where the open door showed that candlelight glowed from inside as well.

"You planned this," Richard accused as they entered the room, his mouth close to her ear. Caroline turned around to face him, a small smile spreading across her face.

"Guilty. But I didn't know if you would agree."

She could get him to agree to just about anything at this point, but he didn't tell her that. Instead, he stopped talking altogether, pulling her against him once again.


	13. Chapter 10

**Thanks again for all the awesome reviews – I've been on a crazy kick with this story and pretty much non-stop writing for the past week. So thanks for the encouragement, and please keep it coming! You guys are great.**

**Quick note about this chapter and the chapters to come – we're getting to the point where the story is about to catch up with the canon of the show. I personally hate reading stories that retell what we've already seen on TV, so I'm going to try really hard not to do that. The next chapter especially will run into that problem, but hopefully you'll see that I changed things up quite a bit. We already know what happened on LOST, so who wants to read a verbatim account, right? Just wanted to clear that up.**

**-**

Chapter Ten: "Alternate"

The morning that Ben called, Caroline almost didn't know what it was. No one really ever used the Dharma phones to communicate in the barracks. Those who needed them had radios, those who didn't lived close enough together to travel between each other's houses at will. Caroline wasn't sure if she had ever even used the phone in her bedroom, which was why the shrill ringing that woke her that morning was more than startling.

It took her a few moments to realize where it was coming from. She sat up, holding the sheet close to her, and looked around the dark room absently. Finally, she remembered the phone, and leaned over to pull it off its hook quickly.

"Hello?" Her voice was almost unrecognizable to her own ears – hoarse and unsure. She cleared her throat and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Good morning, Caroline." Ben's voice rang through from the other end, sounding as if he'd been awake for awhile. "Can you meet me at the medical bay in fifteen minutes? I need to speak with you."

Caroline frowned, her eyes trying desperately to focus on the glowing red lights from her alarm clock. "It's…four in the morning, Ben."

"I'm aware. Would you rather me come to your house, Caroline? Would that be more convenient for you?" Ben's voice held no pretense of politeness whatsoever, and Caroline sighed.

"No. I'll be there." She hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

Richard's warm hand smoothed over her exposed shoulder, startling her only slightly.

"Who was that?" he asked, his voice sounding just as sleepy as hers had. "It's early."

"It's 4 am," Caroline replied, turning over to look at him in bed next to her. "And that was Ben. Apparently he needs to meet with me."

Richard rolled onto his side, frowning. "Now? About what?"

She shrugged, reaching for the shirt she had discarded on the floor the night before. She found Richard's instead, and pulled it over her bare shoulders. "Didn't say."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Richard watched her get out of bed and cross the room, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn.

"No, don't worry about it. Go back to sleep."

He didn't argue as she leaned down to kiss him briefly on the mouth. "Don't be too long."

Caroline figured she probably didn't have much say in that, but nodded anyway, slipping out into the hallway towards the bathroom. She took her time showering and getting ready, feeling as though Ben couldn't possibly expect to wake someone up at four in the morning and have them be ready in 15 minutes.

As it was, she made it down to the medical bay at 4:34, and Ben was waiting for her in the dimly light office/supply room. He sat in the swivel chair behind the paper-laden desk that she, Juliet, and Ethan shared, to do paperwork or whatever else. Ben stared at her as she entered, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"You're late," he said, and Caroline sighed, sitting down in the metal folding chair across from him. It was cold in the medical bay, like it always was, but she had neglected to wear a jacket, and without the lab coat she usually had on, her arms were prickling with goosebumps.

"Good morning, Ben." It was simply too early to argue, and Caroline sincerely hoped he hadn't called her here to berate her about something. Thankfully, one of the only refreshing things about Ben was that he always seemed to get to the point right away. He didn't tend to waste time with small talk or niceties.

Ben closed a folder that he'd been looking at, setting it aside on the desk and removing his glasses.

"Caroline, I have a new assignment for you."

She frowned, not comprehending. "What do you mean? Here in the medical bay?"

Since Dr. Burke's arrival on the island, Caroline had mostly been her assistant. She found Juliet much more comfortable to work with than Ethan…she was laidback and friendly and, more than anything, interested. She cared about medicine, she cared about what she was trying to do on the island, and she cared about the women that were continuing to die. Instead of treating life with a strange clinical detachment, as Ethan tended to do, Juliet worked passionately. Caroline liked her immensely.

"Not exactly," Ben continued, and Caroline felt her heart drop into her stomach. She'd been dreading this day, the day that Ben tried to make her leave the island. Her hands grew cold and clammy and she bit on her bottom lip.

"Like…off the island?" she asked, afraid of the answer. Ben smiled in reply, but it was more like a smirk.

"No, not off the island. Not technically." He sighed and leaned back in the chair, the squeak of the springs echoing in the otherwise silent room. "Caroline, where I am going to be sending you is…a place that not many people on the island know about."

She was beginning to get more and more nervous with every word that was coming out of Ben's mouth. "What…I have to leave? Leave the barracks?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

Her anxiety turned quickly into anger. She knew why Ben was doing this, and it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Richard. "Where?"

Ben slid a piece of paper across the desk in front of her. It was a map, of the northernmost shore of the island. Or so it appeared. When Caroline looked closer, she saw an outline that lie slightly offshore, apparently in the water.

"What is this?" she asked, looking up at Ben. "I don't understand."

"It's a Dharma station," Ben said. "Called The Looking Glass. They used it to transmit sonar navigation waves, primarily to lead the submarine to and from the island."

Caroline stared at the map and this station, this Looking Glass. There was no way it was just sitting out in the ocean, and the fact that it acted as a beacon pointed out to her that it was underwater. The structure was entirely circular with various arrows and notations pointing out things written in very tiny print. She was too tired and too shaken to examine it any further.

"And the reason you needed to meet me at four in the morning to announce this?"

Ben frowned, leaning forward again. "This is a matter of extreme privacy, Caroline. Besides you, me, and the two people already working down in the Looking Glass, nobody knows that this station is currently operable."

Caroline matched Ben's frown – a secret underwater station? "Richard doesn't know?"

Ben's mouth twitched and he looked down, rustling some more papers around absently. "Richard does not know. And you will be unable to tell him."

Caroline stared. "Where am I supposed to say that I'm going then? I'm just…disappearing? Into the ocean? What the hell?"

B en held up his hands. "Please don't get upset, Caroline. It's far too early to deal with your hysterics."

"_Don't_ tell me not to get upset!" she shouted. "You're sending me to some…some secret bunker in the ocean, for who knows how long, and you're expecting me not to get upset? Give me a break!"

Even more frustrating was that Ben was apparently refusing to acknowledge her outburst. Instead, he busied himself folding a piece of paper and sliding it carefully into an envelope. Caroline felt her racing heartbeat slow down slightly as she watched him, but the jumble of emotions she was feeling still swirled around inside of her. She was devastated, scared, angry, concerned, and most of all, nauseated. Her head swam as she realized quite quickly that she was about to throw up.

Ben didn't flinch as she got up and ran for the tiny bathroom off the supply room, making it just in time to reach the toilet and empty the contents of her heaving stomach. For a few minutes after the nausea passed, Caroline remained sitting on the hard concrete floor, feeling numb. Why was Ben doing this? Why didn't anyone else know about the Looking Glass? Why did she, of all people, need to go there?

After washing her hands and face and trying to find her composure once again, Caroline returned to the desk, where Ben waited, his chin in his hand.

"If there's already two people working down there," she began, sitting back down carefully, "why do I need to go?"

"The reason I gave them is because of your medical training," Ben replied. "Having a nurse in such a private and inaccessible location is ideal."

Caroline narrowed her eyes. "And the real reason?"

"The real reason is that I need someone trustworthy down there to make sure they continue to maintain protocol." Ben watched her carefully. "There's been only the two of them for so long, it's only a matter of time before the temptation for treachery becomes too great. A third party will ensure their willingness to follow orders, even the difficult ones. Is that enough explanation for you?"

Her stomach still felt bitter, and Caroline hoped she wasn't going to throw up again. If she did, she was tempted to forgo the bathroom and just vomit all over Ben, instead. "Let's give up the pretenses, please. At least give me that much respect. I know why you're sending me down there and it has nothing to do with me being a nurse or being trustworthy."

"Do tell." Ben's tone was challenging, but Caroline wasn't about to step down.

"This is about Richard." She paused, watching his face, but Ben's expression betrayed nothing. "I don't know why you can't just let us be happy, Ben."

He didn't say anything for a long time, and for a moment, Caroline thought he might just leave without another word.

"Would you rather me let him get you pregnant? Let him kill you? Is that what you want?" His voice was soft but held a distinct hardness, and Caroline knew there was no way out of this, no matter how much she argued. So she didn't say anything more, just crossed her arms over her stomach and stared at a chip in the desk in front of her, waiting for more instructions.

"You need to be ready to leave by this time tomorrow morning," Ben continued finally, glancing at his watch. "Pack only the essentials and meet me down at the dock, no later than 5:00, please." He paused and stared at her for a few moments, but Caroline refused to meet his eyes. "I woke you early so that you would have sufficient time to say goodbye. I'm not completely heartless, Caroline."

Ben stood, taking the map he had set in front of her and putting it back inside the folder he had brought with him. "I'm counting on your discretion, of course. Everyone will be told that you're being sent on assignment in Canada. I've left a letter of explanation for Juliet, and I'll expect that you tell Richard the same. Lying will be your best option, Caroline, as much as you may want to tell him the truth…that will only hurt him more in the end."

He stood there for a few more moments, but Caroline was silent. Finally, he left, and she listened to his footsteps echo on the way out.

She sat in the cold hard chair, unmoving, until Juliet came into work, around seven.

"Caroline, you're here early." Juliet's voice brightened up the cold, silent room, and Caroline realized suddenly how late it was as sunlight streamed through the narrow windows. Richard was probably wondering where she was, maybe even worried by this time, but she couldn't bring herself to go back home and face him. Not yet.

"Caroline?" A warm hand on her shoulder. She looked up and met Juliet's concerned eyes. "Are you alright?"

Juliet had a sisterly sort of way about her – it was something that made Caroline realize why she and Alex had grown so close over the years. For Alex, Caroline was someone to look up to, someone to confide in.

Now, as Juliet waited for an explanation, Caroline chewed on her bottom lip. Even though she hadn't planned on crying over this, she could feel the tears start to flow.

"Okay, you're starting to scare me." Juliet fumbled for the box of tissues sitting on the desk. "Do I need to go and get Richard?"

Caroline shook her head quickly, accepting the tissue and wiping her face. Her throat had swollen up with a lump that she knew was a sob just waiting to escape, so she didn't try to speak, just nodded at the envelope Ben had left on the desk.

Juliet tore the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside, scanning the words quickly. Caroline waited, trying to wipe away all the tears before they could fall.

"Canada?" Juliet lowered the letter and looked at Caroline. "He's sending you to Canada?"

Caroline could only nod.

Juliet lowered herself into the squeaky swivel chair with a sigh, inspecting the letter once more.

"Why?"

Caroline shrugged, unable if she could trust her voice to work without cracking. "He's…he's punishing me."

Juliet's eyes widened and she set the letter down on the desk. "What?"

"He's punishing me for being with Richard. For being happy." The realization hit Caroline like a ton of bricks and she began to cry again, lowering her face to avoid Juliet's gaze.

"Caroline, that's…that can't be true."

"Oh, please, Juliet." Caroline wiped new tears away with exasperation. "You've been here long enough now to know Ben. To know what he does, how he works. He's not a dictator, he won't just shoot you and be done with it. But he'll find little ways over the course of your life to make you wish that you had never rebelled against him. That you hadn't ever believed he wasn't capable of such viciousness."

She wiped her eyes again and looked up at Juliet. "Like you and Goodwin." Juliet's expression hardened but Caroline kept talking. "You know he'll find a way to punish you, both of you, eventually."

"Don't." Juliet held up her hand and shook her head. "Just…I know. But don't. Not right now."

Caroline sighed and plucked another tissue out of the box. The one she had taken earlier was soaked through. "I'm sorry. Misery loves company, right."

Juliet crumpled the letter Ben had left for her, throwing it in the trash can under the desk. "I can try to talk him out of it. He'll listen to me."

"No, not this. This has been a long time coming, Juliet," Caroline said. "I've pissed Ben off for too many years."

Juliet frowned, but nodded. She wasn't blind; she'd been on the island for almost three years now, and the tension between Ben and Caroline had always been obvious. She had never told anyone else, but she believed that it was mostly because of their natural opposition – Caroline was smart, confident, capable, and a born leader. It was obvious in everything that she did. Ben, on the other hand, was intelligent but lacking compassion and faith. He needed the extreme obedience of followers to help himself believe that he could lead their people. Caroline's inclination to challenge him was threatening above all else.

And true to Caroline's word, it didn't help that she had the indestructible support of Richard Alpert on her side. If there was one person on the island besides Jacob who could challenge Ben, who could overrule him totally, it was Richard. Interrupting their union had undoubtedly been on his mind for some time.

"When are you leaving?" Juliet asked softly.

"Tomorrow morning," Caroline replied. "Ben was sure to point out the gracious act he had shown by allowing me a whole 24 hours to pack up my life here."

"Well, then you need to go home," Juliet pointed out. "Tell Richard, because I can tell that you haven't yet. Spend the day with him."

Caroline shook her head, wiping her face for the last time and resolving to stop crying. "No, Juliet, I have work to do today, there's too much –"

"It's nothing, Caroline." Juliet's tone was gentle but firm. "I'll take care of it. As your technical boss, I'm giving you the day off. Take it."

Her heart filled with gratitude for Juliet, and Caroline knew that she was right. Today would be the last day that she would spend with Richard for…well, she didn't even know how long Ben would leave her down there. Years, likely. The thought twisted her stomach again, but she ignored the feeling, lest she start bawling all over again.

"Thank you." Caroline stood up and crossed to the other side of the desk to hug Juliet. "I know you want to go home, Juliet, and I hope you'll find a way to get there, but I am incredibly appreciative that you're here."

Juliet smoothed her hair and squeezed her shoulders before letting her go. "I'll miss you, Caroline."

The friends said one last goodbye before Caroline left the building and started to head home. Every step felt heavy and slightly unsteady, as though she may lose her footing and trip at any moment. Few people were up and about at this hour, but those who were greeted her warmly, and Caroline felt her insides twist even tighter. This was her home, these people were her family. Ben was tearing her apart more than he knew by sending her away.

"Caroline!"

She was only a few hundred yards away from her porch when Alex's voice broke into her reverie. Caroline stopped in her tracks and turned around to see sixteen-year-old Alex running towards her, her face a mask of distress. Clearly, she'd been informed.

"Ben told me," were her first words as she slowed to a stop in front of Caroline. "He told me what he's doing, that he's making you leave." Alex was well into her rebellious hormonal teenage years, and all too willing to direct her anger towards Ben. The downward spiral of their relationship had begun years ago, when Alex had grown old enough to start liking boys, and had started liking one…specifically, Karl Martin. Ben, of course, did everything to keep them apart, and Alex was regularly furious at him.

"Alex, don't get upset," Caroline warned, holding her hands up to try and calm the girl down. "You know that you getting mad and trying to swing some ridiculous attempt at mutiny is not going to solve anything." She knew Alex was capable of nothing short of blowing up the submarine if she got it in her mind to do so.

"But this is stupid!" Alex shouted, and probably every Dharma house in the barracks could hear her. "Why is he doing this?"

"This has _nothing_ to do with you, Alex," Caroline reminded. "It's about me. Me, and your dad, and that's it. He's not doing this to punish you."

It was then that Alex started to cry, and Caroline wrapped her in an obligatory hug, sort of glad that Alex was crying so that she didn't have to. Her tears were dampening Caroline's shirt, but she ignored it.

"It's not fair," Alex mumbled. "He knows you're like my best friend. Like my sister." Her arms tightened around Caroline's shoulders. "Who am I supposed to talk to? About life? About Karl? About anything?"

"Try Juliet," Caroline suggested, patting Alex's wild curls. "She's a good listener."

Alex pulled away and looked at Caroline, wiping her eyes on the long sleeve of her shirt. "Aren't you upset?" Her eyes strayed over to Caroline's house. "You won't get to be with Richard. Not anymore."

Caroline swallowed thickly and nodded. She needed to be strong for Alex. "I know. And…it's okay. We'll make it work." She remembered then when Richard had said _Ben could never keep us apart_.

Alex nodded too. "Yeah. Okay." Caroline reached out to squeeze Alex's shoulder.

"Stay strong, Alex. For me, okay? And keep pissing your dad off, since I won't be here to do it."

Alex laughed and they embraced one more time. Caroline felt her insides wrench once again, as one more part of her seemed to fall away. She loved Alex, the little girl she had watched grow into a woman over the years, the fiery thorn in Ben's side. She missed her already.

Caroline left Alex standing in the yard and continued up to the house. If she had thought saying goodbye to Alex was painful, saying goodbye to Richard was going to be agony.

She found him in the living room, sitting on the couch, his glasses on and a book opened on his lap. He held a cup of coffee balanced on his knee, and looked up at her when she entered. Immediately, he closed his book and took his glasses off, setting both on the coffee table.

"I heard Alex crying outside." Richard leaned back on the couch, watching her. "I'm guessing it wasn't good news."

Caroline couldn't handle his calm demeanor. She thought that she could stay strong, stay cool, but she couldn't, and the tears started to flow instantly as she stood in the doorway. She began to cry in earnest, and felt Richard's arms around her, closing the front door and guiding her towards the couch. She couldn't even form words or explanations just yet, but she let Richard hold her, his lips against her ear, rocking her back and forth as if she were some kind of baby or crazy person.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be okay," he repeated, over and over again, as if he kept saying it, it would turn out to be true. "It's okay, Caroline. It's okay."


	14. Chapter 11: Part One

**AN: So sorry about how long it's been. Basically, life got busy, and then I figured I kinda just wanted to wait until the show ended. In good news, now that we know how ambiguously everything ended up (relating to the island, anyway)…I feel much more free to explore as many options as I want! So even though I have a couple chapters after this already done, I should be writing much more now that the canon of the show is complete.**

A bit of forewarning about this chapter…it's the closest to canon I've been so far, and I'm hoping it's not going to bore your pants off. Obviously, circumstances are altered, and I've tried not the be completely verbatim other than where is absolutely necessary. Bear with me. The chapter is split into two parts (again) because of how freaking long it ended up. 

**Again, so sorry for the absence. I hope everyone still cares about this story, because I do…really!**

Chapter Eleven: "Thorough"

Part One:

The day Charlie Pace infiltrated the Looking Glass station, Caroline had decided to sleep in.

It was hard to keep track of time when you lived underwater, but she tried to rise around 6 or 7 am each morning, the time she would normally get up if she were on the island. But as far as daily duties went, things were fairly low-key and ran on a loose schedule. It really didn't matter if she got up late or not. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself that morning.

Her quarters were small, but private, and the bunk bed she occupied the bottom of was normally uncomfortable enough to force her out of bed. But on this particular morning, her sheets felt cozier than usual, and a strange haze seemed to surround her, encouraging her to linger on the lumpy mattress and try to doze off again.

However, after a few minutes of trying to find her way back to sleep, Caroline gave up and opened her eyes to stare out the small porthole window. Nothing but blue, hazy ocean water stared back at her. Not even a fish swam by, and she yawned, stretching her arms over her head and reaching underneath her bed for a small wooden box.

The box wasn't very deep, and only wide enough to hold a leather bound journal and pen. The box had a small brass latch with a place for a lock, but Caroline didn't bother locking it because no one ever came into her room. Bonnie was nosy but didn't want to get caught, and Greta was respectful enough to mind anyone's privacy. She removed the journal and sat up in bed to hold it in her lap, tracing the faded vine and floral pattern along the outside edges.

"_I know you have your sketchbook,"_ Richard had said when he had given it to her, on the early morning of her departure. _"But I've had this for a long, long time and never used it. It's handmade; I felt like it was too beautiful for me to write in. I want you to have it. Write to me in it, and someday you can give it back to me."_

Caroline had never kept a journal before, she mostly preferred to draw what she was feeling. But she couldn't turn down Richard's request, and agreed to keep the old book and write in it regularly. She found it was easy to keep record of her days and thoughts inside, and it kept her focused, reminded her that someday she _would_ give the book back to Richard.

Opening the cover, she flipped through nine months worth of pages until she found where she had left off.

_December 21, 2004_

_Dear Richard, _

_I'm still in bed. It's a quarter to eight, and I know I only have minutes until Bonnie wanders up here looking for me. It's not that they expect me to do anything this early, it's just that we've got nothing better to do. We're all on this unspoken schedule; we get up at the same time, eat meals at the same time, go to bed at the same time. That's really it, I guess. Unless you count the mindless protocol we go through every day with all of the equipment we never have to use. _

_It's been almost exactly nine months since I've heard your voice. I would say I've forgotten what it sounds like, but I haven't. It's still the freshest thing in my mind, I think, fresher than the smell of our house, or the feeling of sun on my face, or the sound of birds chirping. All that to say, I miss you more than ever. Sorry if that's cliché, but it's true._

_I should probably get out of bed before _

"Caroline?"

Bonnie's muffled voice accompanied her knock on the metal door that lead into Caroline's quarters. "Caroline? Are you awake?"

Closing her journal and setting it aside, Caroline got out of bed and crossed the small room to the door, lifting the handle and pulling it open. Bonnie stood on the other side, fully dressed and looking as judgmental as ever. She crossed her arms over her stomach and raised her eyebrows at seeing Caroline still in pajamas.

Bonnie was only a few years older than Caroline, but she had been on the island, and with their people, since birth. Ignoring the fact that Caroline had been as well, Bonnie used her tenure as leverage around the station. Greta, who had a much more affable personality, was the oldest of all three, but had been recruited by Ben and brought to the island some time ago.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were still…sleeping." Bonnie's tone made it obvious that she wasn't sorry at all.

"I wasn't. Just taking my time," Caroline replied, leaning against the cold metal door. "Did you need something?"

Bonnie shook her head. "No. You were going to be cataloguing the medical supply closet today…right?"

Her voice held a lilt of superiority that would have driven Caroline up the wall were she not used it. Bonnie was a lot like Ben, and she'd thankfully had a lot of experience in the category.

"Yep. Don't worry, Bon. I'll get to it," Caroline said, reaching for the door to pull shut, but not before she allowed herself a moment to watch Bonnie's expression twist into a grimace at the nickname. "Good morning, by the way."

She shut the door soundly and listened for the faint sound of Bonnie stomping away to some other part of the station.

When Caroline was dressed and ready for the day, she made her way down the narrow metal spiral staircase that separated their living quarters from the rest of the station. She found Greta in the small galley, sitting on a stool and eating a bowl of Dharma cereal while she watched a tiny black and white television.

"Getting reception today?" Caroline asked, retrieving a bowl for herself and pouring out some of the cereal. Greta groaned through her spoonful as the signal wavered on the fuzzy TV. She hit the side of the box a couple of times, rattling the long antenna on top, and the picture swirled.

"Barely," Greta muttered. Though they tried every day, it was rare they were able to watch anything for more than a few minutes. The signal was near impossible to get underwater while in competition with the other radio and sonar waves the station handled. "I'm trying to get this news program but…it keeps cutting out."

"Is it in English?" Caroline asked, sitting down next to Greta and leaning across the counter to peer at the TV. The screen was hopelessly fuzzed over, and Greta smacked the side again.

"I can't tell. I think it may be Portuguese, from the few slivers of audio I was able to get." With one more slap, the picture straightened out enough to show what looked like a very large plane for about half a second.

"Did you try adjusting the antenna?" Caroline asked, mixing up some powdered milk to pour into her cereal. "The array could be off."

Taking a quick bite of her breakfast, Caroline crossed around to the back of the television and bent over it, tinkering with a few things quickly. Since beginning work down in the Looking Glass, Caroline had learned quite a few things about communication technology. The biggest reason Ben had them manning the station, as she had quickly learned upon her arrival, was the mechanism that he had secretly placed there to jam all outgoing transmissions from the island. Caroline knew, as did Bonnie and Greta, that if word were to get out about the jammer, their people would be upset at both Ben's decision to operate the mechanism and the fact that he had lied about it for so many years.

"Any better?" she asked, adjusting the resistance of the antenna and waiting for Greta's response.

"Yes, that's it!" Greta exclaimed. "God…Caroline, come look at this."

Caroline resumed her seat next to Greta and pulled over her cereal bowl as she focused on the TV. Greta turned up the volume knob, revealing that the broadcast was indeed in Portuguese. But the wavering text on the screen, just barely visible, was in English.

"Oceanic Flight 815," Greta read aloud. "Found in the Sunda trench outside of Bali." Greta turned towards Caroline, her eyes wide. "Is that…the same plane?"

Caroline chewed her cereal slowly, her eyes on the television, and wished she could speak Portuguese instead of Latin so that she could understand the voiceover. "815 is the flight that crashed here, but that's definitely not their plane."

Though the atmosphere in the station was somewhat cut off from the rest of the island, Caroline, Bonnie, and Greta were kept somewhat regularly updated via occasional radio communication with Ben. 7 months after Caroline had been sent down to the Looking Glass, a plane crashed on the island, leaving around 70 survivors. At first, she had been startled at the news – how could something like this be possible? But eventually, Caroline began to believe that this could not have been something Jacob had not been anticipating. Though she would never admit it to Bonnie and Greta, who were wholly devoted followers of Ben at all costs, part of her hoped that this plane could possibly contain the future leader for their people.

In addition to crashing on the island, the survivors had since discovered the whereabouts of the other people living on the island, and caused extreme tensions in the process. The information received from Ben was vague and biased at best, but Caroline knew that the survivors had thus far destroyed both the Dharma Swan station and the Flame, and most recently, blown up their submarine. All three incidents had thrown their sonar communications completely out of whack, and everything was still refusing to function correctly. Even though Ben's insistences were overwhelming, Caroline could not help but feel somewhat targeted by these people. She felt protecting the island was most important to her, even if it meant following Ben's orders when she really didn't want to.

She longed to discuss the plane crash, the survivors, the possibilities with Richard. She was certain he knew or at least had some insights on Jacob's plan for these people, a subject on which her mind had been frustratingly blank. Since her arrival at the station, Caroline had not had a single dream or reminder of Jacob's presence. She felt hopelessly cut off and alone.

But now, as she stared at the apparent wreckage of flight 815 on the fuzzy television, her world felt turned upside down.

"I don't understand," Greta murmured, turning up the volume again despite the foreign language. "Shouldn't some Portuguese words be interchangeable with Spanish? Damn it." Greta adjusted the Dharma issue vest she wore, a relic that had been abandoned in the station years ago, and leaned back on her stool. "Maybe we should call Ben. Do you think he knows?"

"I guarantee you he knows," Caroline replied, taking another bite of her cereal. "Clearly it's a hoax designed to keep people from really searching for the plane wreckage, from trying to find the island."

Greta turned to Caroline with wide eyes. "Do you think so?"

"Absolutely." Caroline set her spoon down and pointed at the screen. "Greta, who is the one person we know has been trying to find the island for years?"

Greta frowned. "Widmore."

"Exactly." Shaking her head, Caroline picked up her bowl to finish off her breakfast. Her stomach was beginning to feel uneasy as she thought about it. "Something is definitely weird about this, though."

The picture cut away from the shot of the plane to show a female news anchor, and Greta leaned in towards the screen, trying to decipher her words.

"That says the wreckage was discovered over three weeks ago, I think," Greta said, pointing at the text that flashed across the bottom of the screen. "I guess Portugal is getting their news late."

"Guess so." Caroline couldn't manage to finish the rest of her cereal and carried her bowl to the small sink to rinse out. Her stomach was feeling queasier by the second – there was something entirely unsettling about the knowledge that Charles Widmore would stage a plane crash somewhere at the bottom of the ocean. The only reason he would go to the extreme in that way was because he was close to finding the island.

Ben had been warning his people of the dangers Charles Widmore represented for all the years that he had been gone, and was adamant that he would stop at nothing from finding the island and killing everyone that was on it. Caroline had heard this message time and time again, but she felt conflicted. Part of her remembered Charles as she had known him when she was 12 years old, before Ben had made him leave the island. She had always been intimidated by Charles, but she never would have dreamed he was capable of the genocide Ben claimed he was. Another part of her remembered how angry Charles had been when Ben had ordered him to leave, and she feared for the island and the lives of her people.

The reception on the TV started to haze over again, and just as Greta crouched behind it to play with the antenna again, the door to the galley slammed open and Bonnie rushed in.

"Someone's here," she announced, breathless. She didn't wait for a reaction and threw open the small pantry door, where they kept their meager supply of weaponry.

"What?" Greta exclaimed. "Bonnie, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Someone just came up through the goddamn moon pool, Greta," Bonnie snapped back, pulling out a revolver and checking to see if it was loaded. "I think it's one of them."

Caroline knew instantly what she meant – one of the crash survivors. She closed her eyes momentarily and rubbed her temples. This was not good, not good at all.

"Caroline, come on," Greta called, breaking into her reverie. She heard the snapping sound of Greta checking her own rifle and running out of the galley. Caroline hesitated for only a moment before retrieving a weapon of her own from the closet, a 9mm to shove in her waistband quickly before following after Bonnie and Greta.

When she arrived in the moon pool room, Bonnie already had her foot on the chest of the new arrival, her gun cocked and her finger on the trigger. The man, soaking wet, was lying on his back, arms up, clearly in surrender.

"Bonnie, ease off!" Caroline shouted, nearing the scene. Bonnie scowled at her but reluctantly moved away from the man, keeping her weapon on him. "He's unarmed. Get your finger off the trigger."

"He's one of them," Bonnie hissed. "He could be capable of anything."

Caroline sighed, nearing the man and keeping one hand on the gun tucked behind her. "What's your name?"

The man watched her carefully, and Caroline was surprised to see he was smiling. "Why? What's _your_ name?"

His cheek caused Bonnie to cock her gun again and the man quickly raised his empty hands once more. "Okay, okay! I'm Charlie. My name's Charlie."

Caroline rubbed the back of her neck, realizing both Bonnie and Greta were now watching her for further instructions, though she had no idea why. She had absolutely zero experience in taking prisoners.

"Let's tie him up," she decided, figuring the quicker she could get Bonnie to take her gun off him, the better. They needed to find out what he was doing down there and why, and he needed to be alive for that.

Greta retrieved one of the small swivel chairs they kept in the radio room, and Caroline found a length of rope in one of the lockers that housed their scuba gear. Bonnie took it from her roughly.

"I'll do it. I'm better with knots," she amended when she noted Caroline's apprehension.

Once Charlie was securely fixed in the chair, Caroline paced in front of him, trying to place him mentally with the information on the survivors that Ben had wired down to them. Mikhail was stationed in the Flame, or had been until it blew up, gathering detailed information on the crash survivors almost as soon as the plane touched down. Looking back on it now, Caroline found herself feeling that the reason Ben had relayed this information to them was because he expected something like this to happen. Her blood boiled at the thought but she tried to ignore it.

"Just tell us how you got down here and what you're doing, and you won't get hurt," Greta promised, lowering her gun and holding out a hand pleadingly. Charlie shifted in his restraints and smirked again.

"Well, that's a bloody lie if I ever heard one," he said. "You people are no more likely to let me go than I am to tell you why I'm here."

Before Caroline could stop her, Bonnie punched Charlie in the face, hard enough to send his neck snapping back.

"Hey!" Caroline cried. "Cool it, Bonnie!"

"Why should I?" she snapped. "He's not going to tell us why he's down here unless we force him to."

Laying a hand on Bonnie's forearm, Caroline pushed her gently away. "There are other ways to force his cooperation."

At her suggestion, Charlie focused his attention on her, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "And who might you be? You in charge down here?"

"No one here is in charge, Charlie." Caroline sat down on a crate near him and studied the man closely. "My name is Caroline."

"Don't tell him your name!" Bonnie hissed.

"He already knows yours," Caroline responded, and Bonnie frowned, fingering the gun on her belt loop. "And we know his. Charlie Pace, right?"

Her recollection of the man's surname and information couldn't have come at a better moment, as Charlie's smug look faded away to shock. "How do you…?"

"Know your name?" Caroline finished. "I know a bit more than that, Charlie. You're a washed up rock star, a heroin addict, and a Sagittarius. Would you like me to keep going?"

Charlie was clearly floored but tried in vain to hide it. "Yeah, go ahead. What else you got?"

"Oh, lots of things," Caroline continued. "You were born in Manchester, your parents are Megan and Simon, your brother is Liam, and he was also a heroin addict up until about a couple years ago when he decided to get clean, unlike you." She paused. "And you're in love with Claire Littleton, one of your fellow flight 815 survivors. Did I miss anything?"

Charlie opened his mouth to retort but was quickly cut off by Bonnie.

"Let's cut the bullshit, already." She stormed over to Charlie and pulled out her gun again, pressing the barrel of it right against his chest. "How did you find out about this place?"

Charlie hesitated, glancing at Caroline briefly before looking back at Bonnie.

"Juliet told us," he announced softly. "Oh, you haven't heard? She's one of us now."

At the mention of her friend, Caroline's heart sank. If what Charlie said was true, if she was really helping the survivors, it was only a matter of time before she was killed. Greta caught her eye for a moment, looking sympathetic, but Caroline quickly looked away. There were unfortunately more pressing matters to think about than Juliet's life.

"Why are you down here?" Bonnie demanded, looking entirely unaffected by the mention of Juliet.

Charlie shrugged as best he could around his restraints. "Oh, you know. Nice day, thought I'd take a quick swim. I was hoping one of you lovely ladies could give me the grand tour, but—"

Before he could finish, the butt of Bonnie's gun connected with his jaw, sending a sickeningly loud crack to echo through the room.

"Bonnie, _enough_!" Greta stood and pushed Bonnie away gently. "We need him to be conscious, and you know we can't kill him until we've talked to Ben."

"Excellent point." Caroline stood up. "Let's call Ben."

"Yeah, tell him I said hi," Charlie mumbled in between spitting out mouthfuls of blood. Caroline was surprised his jaw wasn't broken, but she didn't say anything, instead walking past him and opening the door to the radio room. She allowed Bonnie and Greta to walk in ahead of her, and watched Charlie as he tried to inconspicuously swivel his chair to watch them enter. His eyes seemed to fix on something past them, however, and Caroline turned to follow his gaze to the flashing yellow light above the switch to disengage the jammer. She frowned and was about to turn back to him when Bonnie spoke.

"Caroline. Shut the damn door, will you?"

Glancing back at Charlie once more, Caroline pulled the door only half closed behind her and stepped in. Under no circumstances were they supposed to contact Ben via radio to maintain their clandestine location. He was not going to be happy. Normally, Caroline wouldn't mind making Ben angry, but currently, all she could feel was the desire to get this over with quickly. She didn't want to kill Charlie, or watch Bonnie do it, but she didn't want him to cause any more destruction, either.

Bonnie picked up the transceiver and adjusted the channel. "Ben? Come in, Ben."

Caroline chewed her lip as she waited, wondering if he would answer at all, and if he didn't, what they would do. Part of her just wanted to let Charlie go, send him back to wherever he came from without doing whatever he had come here intending to do, but something told her he wasn't going down without a fight. He seemed fairly determined thus far.

Finally, Ben's voice came in over the crackly reception. "Hello?"

"Ben," Bonnie replied. "It's Bonnie. Ben, can you hear me? Are you there?"

A short pause, and Ben's faint voice again. "Why are you breaking radio silence?"

Caroline rolled her eyes and Greta sighed, shifting uncomfortably. Bonnie glanced out the door at Charlie, as if making sure he was still there. "One of them is down here."

"What? _Who_?" Caroline had never heard Ben sound so incredulous, and wished she could savor the moment. "Who is it?"

"It's Charlie Pace," Greta interjected. "He won't tell us why he's here."

"How did he find out about the station?" Ben demanded, and before Bonnie could betray Juliet's name, Caroline jerked the transceiver away.

"Ben, this is Caroline," she announced. "He…won't tell us who told him."

Bonnie stared at her, eyes wide and furious. "What the hell are—" she began, but Greta put a hand on her shoulder to silence her.

"What? I—" Ben's voice cut off and there was a short sound of what sounded like a struggle, and varied voices in the background. But over Ben's abrupt murmurs, Caroline heard a sliver of the voice she'd been longing to hear for months.

"Richard?" she demanded, unable to stop herself. "Ben? Ben, is Richard there?"

She gripped the edge of the counter with a desperation she couldn't remember ever feeling so intensely, and waited for the reply. Bonnie and Greta watched her, expressions still aghast. She motioned for them to leave.

"Go, please," she begged. "I'll get more information. Just…go."

Bonnie started to argue, but Greta grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the radio room, graciously closing the door behind them.

Finally, Ben's crackling voice came back on the radio. "Caroline? Are you still on?" His voice sounded tired and defeated. Caroline gripped the transceiver with shaking hands.

"Yes, I'm here."

"Richard would like to speak with you," Ben deadpanned, and there was a brief static as the radio changed hands.

"Caroline?"

Involuntary tears clouded her vision as Caroline pulled the transceiver close, as if that would in turn bring her closer to Richard. "Yes! Richard? Richard?"

"I'm here. Caroline, where are you?"

"I'm in the Looking Glass," she replied, figuring that Ben's cover was blown completely, anyway. "I'm here, this is where I've been the whole time. I'm not in Canada!"

Richard's laugh came through over the radio and she smiled in relief. "I figured. Caroline…I…I miss you."

"Oh, God, Richard, I miss you too." The words came out as a breathy sob, and she quickly wiped the tears away shakily with the back of her hand. "I…I just want to get out of here, to be with you."

There was a pause and Ben's voice came through in the background again, unintelligibly.

"Ben is sending Mikhail down to the station," Richard said next, and she sighed, closing her eyes. Mikhail Bakunin had never been her favorite person. In fact, he'd always creeped her out, which was why she was glad he'd always been stationed out at the Flame, far away from the Barracks. Of course Ben would send Mikhail to do his dirty work. "He wants you to keep Charlie alive until he gets there, and try find out why he's down there."

"It shouldn't take much longer for him to tell us, if Bonnie keeps hitting him." Caroline wiped her face quickly with the bottom of her shirt and stood up to look through the porthole. Greta appeared to be questioning Charlie now, with Bonnie pacing in the background.

"Caroline, I need you to do something for me," Richard said, his voice low. "I need you to be careful. I need you to stay alive, and get to me. Can you do that?"

Caroline felt her throat swell up, with more threatening tears and a trace of fear. "Yes. Yes, I can do that."

"We've left the barracks and we're on our way to the Temple," Richard continued. Caroline frowned in confusion – they had abandoned the barracks? That was only protocol in a dire emergency. "I can explain everything later, but you need to know that now is not a safe time on the island, and I need you to be extremely cautious. Promise me, Caroline."

"I promise," Caroline replied, dreading the moment she would have to get off the radio with him. "Richard? I love you."

The static crackled for a moment before he responded. "I love you, too. Please be safe."

"I will. I…I have to go." She shut her eyes tightly against the onset of new tears. "I'll see you soon."

"Yes, you will. Goodbye, Caroline."

Forcing herself to sign off, Caroline turned the dial quickly and wiped her eyes one more time before stepping out into the main room. Greta and Bonnie waited, their faces expectant.

"Help is on its way," she announced, pleased that her voice didn't waver. "In the meantime, we'll just have to sit tight." She stepped up next to Charlie and put a hand on his shoulder. "And you need to tell us why you're down here."

"He won't," Bonnie grumbled. "I say we shoot him in the leg and let him bleed to death until he tells the truth."

Charlie looked up at Caroline. "Is she always this cranky?"

"Shut up!" Bonnie yelled, taking a few steps towards Charlie, but Caroline stepped in between them quickly.

"Charlie." Caroline resumed her seat across from him on the crate and watched Bonnie out of the corner of her eye. "I saw you looking at the sequence light. Does the reason you're here have something to do with what's in that room?" She pointed behind him towards the radio room and Charlie glanced over his shoulder towards it. He was silent for a moment, then looked back at her.

"You're a smart one," he conceded. "Why don't you keep guessing? We can play hot and cold."

"I don't play games, Charlie." Caroline took the gun out of the back of her waistband and held it in her hand, feeling its weight carefully. "Do you know how to shoot a gun?"

Bonnie made a noise as if to interrupt, but Greta held up a hand. Charlie raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Ever killed someone?" Caroline knew the answer already, knew that Charlie had killed Ethan over two months ago after Ben had sent him to infiltrate their camp.

Charlie spit some more blood out of his mouth and stared at her for a few moments. "Yes. I have."

Caroline nodded, still looking down at her gun. "I remember when I learned how to shoot a gun. I was young, probably…oh, thirteen or fourteen." To be truthful, she remembered the exact day, the hour, the moment she had first held the cold, hard weight of a gun in her hands. "I was told I'd probably never have to kill anyone, but I should be prepared to nonetheless. I should be ready to take a life to protect the island." She shrugged, setting the gun down on the crate next to her. "I haven't had to do that yet, but I can assure you that I am prepared to."

Caroline stood up and crossed her arms, taking a few steps closer to Charlie. "I don't want to kill you, Charlie. I don't want to kill any of your people. But if you're threatening the safety of this island, our home…I have no choice." She crouched down, eye level to him. "I need you to tell me why you're down here, or I can't promise that you'll live through this."

Charlie smirked. "I know I probably won't. That's not why I'm down here, to live through it."

"So it's a suicide mission?" Caroline questioned. "Interesting. Then what are we waiting for?" She stood up and picked up her gun, turning around to aim it at Charlie and release the safety.

"Wait!" he cried out. "No, don't…I…" He sighed, defeated. "I'm here to turn off your bloody jammer."

Greta and Bonnie shared a glance, and Caroline set the gun down carefully. "Thanks, Charlie. But I'm afraid we're not done."

Charlie sighed again. "Of course not."

"Why do you need to turn off the jammer?" Caroline asked softly.

Charlie cleared his throat. "It's kind of a long story. Mind if I have some water?"

"I don't think that would be a problem." Caroline turned to Bonnie. "Would you get our friend Charlie some water?"

Surprisingly, Bonnie relented without argument, and disappeared for the galley. She returned with a bottle of water, which she opened and obligingly held to Charlie's lips until his thirst was quenched.

"A few days ago, a woman parachuted out of a helicopter onto the island," Charlie began. "Her name is Naomi and her freighter is docked 18 miles offshore. In order to contact them, to get us rescued, she has a satellite phone that can't be used until we off this jammer that you all are manning down here." He paused, leveling a gaze at all three of them. "Got it?"

Caroline chewed on her bottom lip, locking gazes with Greta and remembering what they had seen on the TV that morning. "And who's freighter is this, exactly? Why are they here?"

Charlie shrugged. "Belongs to a chick named Widmore. My friend Desmond's girl. But I'm guessing you already know that. She's rich, hired a team to look for him." Charlie shrugged.

Caroline tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. She knew the freighter did not belong to Penny Widmore, and she knew now why everyone else had abandoned the barracks and was making for the safe haven of the Temple. Everything was falling into place, but getting much more serious. "Alright, then. So you need to turn off our jammer in order for this Naomi to make contact with her boat and get your people rescued?"

Charlie nodded. "I'd say you have a pretty good handle on things."

Bonnie sighed loudly. "So, how are you planning to turn off the jammer, exactly?"

"Well, flip that switch, of course. Turn off that flashing yellow light, and I'm good to go." Charlie looked satisfied and Bonnie smirked.

"Yeah? What's the code, then?"

Charlie frowned. "What? What code?"

Shaking her head, Bonnie feigned exasperation. "Oh, Charlie. If you're going to turn off the jammer, you're going to need the code. And only four people know it. Us," she motioned around the room between herself, Caroline, and Greta. "And Ben." Her smirk widened into a cool smile. "And if you think we're going to tell you, well…I'd say you've got the wrong idea."

Charlie didn't respond, simply stared straight again into the rolling waters of the moon pool. Caroline watched him, unsure. But he didn't say anything more. She began to feel very tired, and hungry.

"It's going to be awhile before help gets here," she announced, standing up. "I'm going to get some food. Any requests?" Charlie didn't answer, just continued to stare into the water. Bonnie and Greta both shook their heads, and Caroline picked up her gun, heading in the direction of the galley.

Instead of going straight there, however, she took a quick shortcut up the spiral staircase to her sleeping quarters. She knew that, if she was going to make it out of here alive, she was going to need to act quickly, and there was no telling what Mikhail's orders from Ben had been. Caroline pulled the wooden box out from under her bunk and removed the leather journal, along with a plastic zip bag. She slipped the book inside and sealed the bag carefully, reaching around to tuck it into her waistband securely, next to her gun. Caroline didn't even bother to look around the rest of the room; everything else was expendable.

Once in the galley, she filled a basket with a couple more water bottles, some cheese, crackers, and a package of sliced meat from the small refrigerator. Caroline knew that Bonnie and Greta probably wouldn't eat much, Charlie maybe not at all, and she herself couldn't stomach much more than what she had packed. The fact that Charles Widmore had a boat parked a mere 18 miles away from the island was unsettling enough to sober her appetite considerably.

When Caroline returned, Greta and Bonnie were in the radio room, arguing about something, and the door was shut tightly. She paused, frowning – what were they talking about without her? Before she could continue pondering this, she realized that Charlie was no longer silent, and instead singing rather loudly. This would have been unassuming if he hadn't been watching her nervously as he sang. In addition, he was slightly off-key, which was alarming to Caroline – he was a professional musician, he _didn't_ sing off-key. Before she could look around and investigate, Bonnie shoved aside the door of the radio room and stormed out, her gun at the ready.

"Who are you talking to?" she demanded, pointing her gun at Charlie.

"I wasn't talking," he responded quickly, too quickly. "I was singing." He began again before Bonnie knocked the tune right out of his mouth with a sharp backhand to the face.

"Shut up," she hissed, turning to see that Caroline had arrived. "Where've you been?"

"Getting food." Caroline approached and set the small basket down on the crate she'd occupied earlier. She took one more cautionary glance around the room, her eyes lingering on a trail of water drops leading from the moon pool to the scuba lockers. "Where've _you_ been?"

Bonnie looked apprehensive and motioned towards the radio room. "We were talking in there. About…who Ben is sending down."

"And you left him out here alone?" Caroline asked, nodding at Charlie. Bonnie raised her eyebrows.

"He's tied up."

Caroline just nodded. "You're right."

As she had expected, Bonnie refused the offer of food and Greta took a single cracker. Charlie, however, was practically salivating by the time she offered him some. Ignoring Bonnie's disapproving stare, Caroline loosened Charlie's restraints enough to allow him movement of his hand to his mouth, and passed him crackers and pieces of meat and cheese.

"So," he began, his mouth still full of food as he chewed, "you know everything there is to know about me. What about you? Who _are_ you, Caroline?"

"Don't answer that," Bonnie interjected, but Caroline ignored her.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, stacking a piece of cheese on top of a cracker and taking a bite. "Of course, I can't tell you everything, but it's fair for you to ask."

Charlie paused for a moment as she handed him a couple more crackers. "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"

"I was always here," Caroline replied. "My parents were members of the Dharma Initiative in the late 1970s and I was born on the island. I've lived here ever since. The island is my home."

Charlie nodded. "Alright. And why do you work for Ben?"

Caroline couldn't help but bristle a little bit at the accusation. "I wouldn't say that I _work_ for Ben, necessarily." But before she could continue, Charlie spoke again.

"And why exactly is he keeping this little part of the island secret from the rest of your people? What do you think they'd do if they found out?" He paused. "How do you feel about following the orders of a man who has no problems lying? To all of his people and probably you three as well? How do you know whoever he's sending down here isn't just going to kill you?"

"Knock it off," Bonnie interrupted before Caroline could respond. "I'm sick of your mouth."

"Yeah?" Charlie shot back. "Well, I'm sick of yours."

Bonnie's mouth hardened into a thin line, and she stood abruptly, heading for the lockers.

"What are you doing?" Greta called out after her, and Caroline stood, reaching around for her gun just in case.

"I'm getting the spear gun," she replied. "I want it to hurt."

"Wait, Bonnie, no…I'll shut up, I'll shut up!" Charlie sputtered as she drew closer to the lockers, and Caroline had a sneaking suspicion it had nothing to do with the spear gun.

Before anyone could act, however, the still waters of the moon pool broke as someone splashed through the surface. Caroline drew her gun and cocked it automatically, nearing the edge of the pool as the person removed their scuba mask.

"Mikhail?" Bonnie asked, as the man in question pulled off his mask to reveal the telltale hollow where his right eye should have been. Caroline lowered her gun reluctantly, watching Mikhail carefully as he grabbed a hold of the ladder leading out of the pool.

"Bonnie? Caroline?" He glanced past them to Greta, who had stepped up to stand at the opposite end of the pool, gun also raised. "And Greta? Ben told us you were all on assignment in Canada."

His voice was accusatory, and Bonnie balked right away. There was something incredibly intimidating about Mikhail coming out of the moon pool and busting into their secret underwater hatch, full of questions. Caroline didn't blame her for blanching the way that she did.

"He made us promise not to tell anyone," Greta interjected, lowering her rifle reluctantly. Mikhail hauled himself out of the moon pool, dripping water everywhere, and removed his tanks. He motioned at Charlie who nodded as if he'd expected Mikhail to show up all along.

"Where is the other one?" Mikhail demanded, looking around the room. Bonnie frowned.

"What?"

"This idiot swam down from a boat. I was just shooting at his friend. Where is he?"

Caroline replaced her gun in the back of her waistband, suspicions confirmed. But she made a choice, and she made it quickly. "He's alone."

Mikhail narrowed his eye at her. "Are you sure about that?"

"Here's a better question to ask, Cyclops," Charlie called out. "How about why these three have been jamming transmissions off the island? Or why Ben lied and told you the station was flooded when it isn't?"

Mikhail continued to stare at Caroline. "Is that true?"

She smiled, trying to ignore how uneasy Mikhail made her. "Clearly the station is dry, Mikhail."

"About the transmissions," he clarified. "Is it true?"

Before she or anyone else could answer, a shrill ringing noise sounded from the radio room.

"That's Ben," Greta said, turning for the room, but Mikhail stepped forward.

"I'll get it."

"I'll come with you," Caroline offered, following him towards the room. She wasn't about to let him speak to Ben alone. Mikhail glanced at her but didn't argue. She pulled the door closed behind them and remained standing as Mikhail sat and answered the call.


	15. Chapter 11: Part Two

**So….are you guys over this pretty much? Is anyone still reading this? (besides Dinah, thanks for the review to let me know you still care!) If you **_**are**_** still reading, and you **_**do**_** want me to keep updating…then let me know! Please! **

**Again, we're in canon for the rest of this chapter, and some things are verbatim from the season 3 finale. But only where necessary, and hopefully you'll find I've changed things up enough to make it interesting for you.**

Part Two:

"Hello? Caroline, Greta or Bonnie, come in, please."

Ben's voice was crackling through the small speaker. Mikhail leaned in.

"Ben, it's Mikhail."

There was a short pause before Ben replied. "Mikhail. Glad you made it down safely. Is Charlie still alive?"

"He is," Caroline called out, wanting Ben to know that she was present as well. "And he told us why he's down here."

"And why is that?" Ben asked.

"To turn off the jammer," Caroline replied. "So that his people can speak to a freighter anchored a few miles offshore. But something tells me you already knew that."

Ben waited a few moments to respond. "I had my suspicions, Caroline."

Mikhail gripped the transceiver tightly. "Why did you not tell anyone about the jammer?" he questioned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

A few moments of crackling silence passed. Caroline knew she was probably going to be crucified later for letting all these secret operations spill to Mikhail and Richard and whoever else happened to be within earshot of these radio conversations.

"You have to understand, Mikhail. Everything I did, I did for the island."

"The island told you it was necessary to jam your own people?" Mikhail demanded, and Caroline felt it was the most intelligent thing she had ever heard from him. Maybe she'd underestimated the man.

"Yes, it did," Ben shot back. Even over the radio, his voice sounded tired and weary. "You've always been a loyalist. Now I'm asking you to trust me, to trust Jacob, who told me to do this."

Caroline couldn't stop her eyes from rolling, and Mikhail watched her reaction carefully.

"Why would Jacob ask you to lie to your own people?" he questioned softly.

"Because the island is under assault," Ben continued. "By forces stronger than anything it's had to deal with in years. And we are meant to protect it, Mikhail, by any means necessary."

There was a short pause in which Mikhail glanced at Caroline again. She pressed her lips together and shrugged. If what Ben was alluding to was true, that Charles Widmore had a boat parked offshore, that he had sent a woman to parachute down onto the island, that he had staged a giant fake plane wreck off the coast of Bali…well, then he had a fair point. But Caroline also knew what he was about to ask them to do next, and she knew that it was something she would be unable to do regardless.

"Mikhail?" Ben's voice crackled through the transmission questioningly. "Are you still there? Is Caroline still with you?"

"Yes," Mikhail replied. "We are both here."

"Are you alone?"

Caroline closed her eyes and shook her head. She needed to start thinking, and fast.

"It's just us."

"Listen, I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. But I need you two to help me clean up this mess I've made." Another pause, and Caroline opened her eyes to glanced out the porthole on the door. Charlie was still tied up and Bonnie and Greta were now both pacing anxiously.

"I need you to kill Charlie."

The request wasn't a surprise and Caroline tried not to betray her thoughts as Mikhail glanced at her. "You need to make sure that the jamming mechanism continues to function _at all costs_. Do you understand?"

Mikhail nodded. "Yes."

"And we cannot risk Bonnie and Greta telling the others what we've done," Ben continued. "So you'll have to take care of them, too."

Caroline clenched her fist together so hard that it hurt. It would be easy to take care of Mikhail, but Bonnie and Greta as well? She would not be able to persuade them to disobey Ben's orders. Well, maybe Greta, but not Bonnie. She would want to kill Charlie more than anything else.

"Mikhail? Caroline? Do I have your cooperation in this matter? We are in a very serious situation here."

Ben's voice reminded her that she was still in the radio room and Mikhail was still watching her. She nodded slightly and Mikhail nodded back, turning towards the radio.

"Yes. We will follow your orders."

"Thank you. And good luck." The radio static crackled once more before a low beep sounding, signaling that Ben had signed off. Mikhail turned off the radio and stood up, reaching in his pocket for something. Caroline put her hand on her gun for a moment, but he only retrieved his eye patch, snapping it on quickly.

"You are prepared to do what he has asked?" Mikhail questioned, and Caroline paused.

"I'm prepared," she said, and Mikhail nodded, stepping around her to open the door. She saw that he too had his gun tucked in the back waistband of his pants and reached back to hold tightly onto hers.

When they exited the radio room, Greta and Bonnie stopped to stare at them.

"What did Ben say?" Greta asked, looking more worried than Caroline had ever seen her. Mikhail ignored her question.

"Is it possible to turn the jamming mechanism off?" he asked, and Bonnie and Greta looked at each other.

"Yes. Ben gave us the code," Greta replied. As Mikhail spoke, Caroline did not move further out into the room, instead staying directly behind Mikhail, her hand still ready on her gun. Bonnie watched her curiously, looking nervous.

"And what were to happen if the station were to be…flooded?" Mikhail asked, and Greta shook her head.

"Nothing. The casing on the equipment is waterproof. It would run forever."

Mikhail paused for a moment, and Caroline held her breath. He seemed to have forgotten she was there, which was exactly what she wanted. "Then why do you three need to be down here?"

"We were following orders," Bonnie exclaimed. "Ben told us we needed to be down here, so we're down here."

Mikhail glanced at her. "And you never asked why?"

"No, because the minute we start questioning orders is the minute all of this starts falling apart," Bonnie replied. "I trust Ben, and I trust Jacob."

Mikhail paused again and turned to Greta to reply. This was when Caroline saw his hand tighten on his gun and begin to lift it from its position.

"I, too, am following orders, Bonnie."

Everything that happened next seemed to be in a split second. Mikhail raised his gun to Greta, who raised her gun to Charlie. Mikhail was too fast for Caroline, and he pulled the trigger, shooting Greta in the side. Almost simultaneously, Caroline shot Mikhail in the back, propelling him forward on the floor in front of the moon pool. Greta, in her bewilderment, squeezed the trigger on her rifle before crumpling to the floor herself.

"Greta, goddamnit!" Caroline shouted, running to Charlie to see where he'd been shot. His abdomen was covered in blood and he was staring at her in shock. The sound of running footsteps reminded her that Bonnie was still in the room, and Caroline stood up, aiming her gun quickly. She didn't want to kill Bonnie, but she didn't want to die herself, and Bonnie couldn't be trusted not to shoot her.

"Bonnie, wait," she called, but before Bonnie could react, the scuba locker door slammed open, and Desmond Hume stepped out, wielding the aforementioned spear gun.

"Don't!" she called, but it was too late. Desmond proved an excellent shot, quickly spearing Bonnie directly through the chest and killing her instantly. Caroline closed her eyes for only a second, feeling the sting of fresh tears, before snapping them open again and taking aim at Desmond.

"Don't shoot," she ordered, but Desmond kept the spear gun raised at her regardless. "Desmond, if you kill me, you won't be able to do what you came down here to do."

"How do you know my name?" Desmond shouted. "Who are you?" His gaze found Charlie then, alive but quickly fading, and he moved closer to them from across the moon pool. "Did you shoot him?"

"No, Desmond, I did not shoot him," she replied, trying to keep her trigger finger steady. "I didn't want to kill him or anyone else. And I don't want to kill you. But I need you to put down the spear gun. Please."

Desmond didn't lower the gun, looking panicked as his gaze shifted between the injured Charlie and the rest of the bodies strewn across the floor. He looked quickly back at her.

"Who are you? Are you one of them?"

Caroline took a deep breath. "My name is Caroline, and I've been down in this station for the past 9 months. I am one of the others that you speak of, but I promise you Desmond, I do _not_ want to hurt you."

Then, Charlie started to talk, shifting both of their attentions to him. He was clutching his abdomen with both hands and a trickle of blood was coming from the corner of his mouth as he tried to speak. As it was, he couldn't muster much more than a murmur.

"Don't…kill her…Des," he pleaded. "We…need her."

Desmond tightened his grip on the spear gun, still watching Caroline carefully. "What does he mean?" he demanded, and Caroline sighed.

"He means that I have the code that will turn off the jamming mechanism," she replied. "If you kill me, Charlie will die anyway, and what you came down here to do will never get done. He will have died in vain, Desmond."

Charlie nodded slightly, and Desmond hesitated a moment before finally lowering the spear gun.

"Set it down, please," Caroline asked, and Desmond did so, setting it carefully on the floor and stepping away, his hands raised. Caroline let out the breath she'd been holding and lowered her gun, reaching around to tuck it back in her pants. Quickly, she turned to Charlie.

"Help me get him untied," she ordered, and Desmond stepped up instantly to help loosen Charlie's ropes. Once he was unrestrained, Charlie doubled over in pain.

"Charlie, stay with me," Caroline ordered, pushing on his shoulders to straighten him back up again. "I'm going to put pressure on the wound now, okay? We need to stop the bleeding."

But when Caroline examined the place where the bullet had entered him, her hope for Charlie's survival dissipated considerably. There was almost too much blood to see the wound, and it was clear the bullet was still lodged inside of him. Willing herself not to panic, Caroline quickly stood up, taking off the button up shirt she wore over a tank top and balling it up.

She pressed the material as tightly as she could against Charlie's wound without hurting him, and motioned to Desmond to take over for her.

"Put pressure on this," she directed. "And keep him conscious. I'll take care of the jammer."

Desmond eyed her in disbelief, but replaced her hands with his obediently. Caroline wiped her bloody hands on her pants quickly and turned to survey the damage. She stepped up to Bonnie first, checking her pulse quickly although she was certain Bonnie was dead. Her eyes were already closed, but Caroline paused a moment, pressing her lips together in remorse. Bonnie hadn't exactly been a friend, but she hadn't needed to die, either.

Next, she checked on Greta. Her gunshot wound had bled out quickly, and unlike Charlie's, had seemed to pierce her kidney on impact, releasing toxins into her body that had killed her much faster. For this, Caroline felt overwhelmingly responsible. If she had only been half a second quicker, she would have still been alive. Caroline carefully closed Greta's eyelids.

"I'm sorry, Greta," she whispered, frowning down at her friend's dead body.

"He's fading," Desmond called out. "Hurry, please. I don't wanna lose him."

Caroline stood, pausing only nudge Mikhail with her foot. He didn't budge, and she skipped taking his pulse, instead making for the radio room quickly. She didn't want any more blood on her hands today – if she could, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that Charlie lived.

Caroline hesitated in front of the equipment, her eyes on the keypad. She remembered Ben's warning,_ "make sure the jamming continues to function at all costs"_, and knew she was going to catch hell for this. But she couldn't shake the feeling of being responsible for the deaths of two innocent people today, almost three, and Ben was the one who had put her in this position in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she quickly punched in the sixteen numbers she had memorized over the past 9 months.

The flashing yellow light clicked as it shut off, and Caroline let out the breath she'd been holding. She closed her eyes for a second and mentally apologized to Jacob, if this really was what he had wanted.

Almost instantaneously, the outside connection begin to ring in. Caroline knew exactly who it was without having to pick up, and she exited the room to get Desmond.

"I think it's for you," she informed him, and Desmond frowned at her.

"What do you…"

"It's Penny, Desmond."

At the mention of Widmore's daughter, Desmond's eyes widened and he stood, saying something softly to Charlie before passing Caroline into the radio room. She took his place next to Charlie, kneeling next to him and peeling her shirt away to inspect the wound. It was still bleeding fiercely and Charlie was losing his color quickly. He seemed barely conscious, and Caroline shook his shoulder gently.

"Charlie? Charlie, it's me, Caroline."

His eyes opened and closed a few times before focusing on his face. "Oy, Caroline. Did you find my… my shoe?"

Caroline frowned; was he beginning to hallucinate already? "No, Charlie. But I did turn off the jammer."

The mention of what he had initially swam down to the station to do seemed to snap Charlie out his daze. "You did?" Caroline nodded.

"Yes, Charlie. I did."

He narrowed his gaze at her. "Why?"

Caroline didn't know if she could answer that question in the time he had to stay alive. "It's kind of complicated. But I made a choice. And, you were right about Ben."

Charlie sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, but Caroline shook him quickly before he could get too comfortable. "Charlie, I need you to stay awake. We're going to get you out of here."

To her surprise, Charlie laughed softly, opening his eyes again. "Yeah? How?"

Caroline hesitated in her response because she didn't quite know yet. How was she going to get such a heavily injured man to the surface? They had scuba gear, yes, but either way, Charlie would probably not make it out of the station alive. The realization hit her hard and Caroline lowered her head in defeat.

"Hey, it's alright," Charlie said softly, and Caroline looked up curiously. _He_ was comforting _her_? "It's okay. I knew…that I was going…to die. Coming down here…I knew."

Caroline stared at him for a few moments. "Then why did you come?"

"To save them," Charlie replied, without hesitation. "All of them. My friends." He paused, swallowing a mouthful of blood before continuing. "So they can leave."

Caroline didn't have the heart to tell him that his friends would most likely not be saved, at least not in the way that he hoped, and forced a smile instead.

"Then you're a hero, Charlie."

His eyes fluttered closed in response, and Caroline knew he was about to lose consciousness. He was dying and he knew it. There was nothing left for her to do.

"Tell Claire I…tell her." The murmur faded from Charlie's lips and Caroline allowed it, closing her own eyes for a moment.

"Damn it," she muttered, wiping the back of her hand over her forehead and feeling the hot sticky texture of blood as it smeared over her perspiring skin. She sat on the floor in front of Charlie for a few moments, head in her hands, before standing to join Desmond in the radio room. He had ended his transmission with Penny and was staring blankly out the small window at the sea beyond.

"I'm guessing she told you it wasn't her boat," Caroline said, and Desmond half-turned to look at her.

"Aye. She did," he replied, and she nodded. Desmond turned fully away from the window and stared at her. "If you knew, why did you…why did you turn it off? The jammer? Why did you help us if you knew that we were wrong?"

Caroline shrugged, looking down at her bloodstained hands and tank top. "Because you would have killed me anyway. And too many people have already died today."

Desmond paused for a moment and they both stood in silence in the radio room.

"Whose boat is it, then?" he asked finally. "Who is this Naomi woman?"

"The boat belongs to Penny's father, Charles, whom I believe you are acquainted with," Caroline answered. "And Naomi, though I don't know who she is, must work for him, as does everyone else on the freighter."

Desmond looked shocked. "Widmore? Why?"

Caroline shook her head. "That, I cannot tell you. But you'll find out soon enough." She looked up at him. "Desmond, I know that you've been on the island for a long time and that you want to get off. And I'm sure that you will. But, you need to promise me something."

His gaze was instantly apprehensive. "What?"

"When we leave the station and get back up to the island, to the beach, I need you to promise to let me go." Desmond didn't react, so she kept talking. "Your people up there are going to want to hold me hostage for what happened down here, and I don't blame them. But I need to get back to _my_ people. I helped you, Desmond. I did what you came down here to do. And you need to let me go."

Desmond didn't respond for a few long moments, and Caroline was afraid that he would disagree. She didn't fear being held hostage or killed by the survivors, but she did want to get back to Richard, more than anything else, as soon as she could.

Finally, he nodded. "Alright, then."

Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, we need to get out of here fairly quickly."

"What about Charlie?" Desmond asked, following her out of the radio room. "How are we going to get him back to the surface safely?"

Caroline winced and turned to face him, but Desmond had already seen Charlie's body.

"I'm sorry, Desmond. He's…he's gone."

She watched as Desmond rested a hand on Charlie's shoulder and lowered his head briefly as if in prayer. Caroline turned around to give them privacy, starting to head towards the scuba lockers. But something was out of place, and it stopped her in her tracks.

Where Mikhail's body had lain, a dark trail of blood was now in its place, leading into the wavering waters of the moon pool. Her pulse quickened and she sprinted over to where he had been, quickly glancing around the room. But he was gone.

Desmond noticed her panic. "What is it?"

"It's…Mikhail. He's gone." Caroline looked up at Desmond, but something caught her eye, just past him into the radio room. There was a figure swimming just outside of the small window. She took a quick step forward, just far enough to verify that it was Mikhail. And that he was holding a grenade.

"Desmond, get—" Her words were cut off by the sound of a muted underwater explosion and the glass on the porthole shattering. Water began to pour into the radio room quickly and forcefully, splashing out into the main room and over Caroline's shoes.

"We need to get out of here, now," she shouted, urging Desmond towards the moon pool. There was no time for scuba gear, and she began to ready herself, taking deep breaths as the water spilled over the floor beneath her.

"You ready? Go!" she ordered, and Desmond nodded before diving into the pool at the far end. Caroline glanced around the station one more time before following suit.

She had never made the swim from the moon pool up to the surface before – she'd only ever arrived in the station once, and it was on the sub. It was a long time to hold her breath, but she was a good swimmer, and was able to find the boat easily. When she broke the surface, taking in quick gulps of fresh air and feeling her body move with the current, Caroline almost couldn't believe it. The sun was shining and the breeze was blowing, and she missed this, the island, so much.

"Come on," Desmond was calling, breaking into her reverie, and she realized that he was reaching an arm out to help her into the narrow boat.

Once in the boat, Caroline reached back to make sure both her gun and the journal were still tucked in their safe place in her waistband. She picked up an oar, as did Desmond, and they began to row back to shore.

The sight of the island was overwhelming to Caroline, and she couldn't help but smile. Even as her arms began to grow tired of rowing, her energy grew as she realized she was mere miles away from home, from Richard. The thought, coupled with the feeling of being above water again, propelled her on and gave her courage as the survivor's beach came into view.

As they rowed closer to shore, their presence did not go unnoticed, but only a handful of people appeared to watch their arrival, not the forty-something she was expecting.

Regardless, she turned back to Desmond briefly. "Remember, Desmond. You promised to let me go."

He nodded. "I know."

When the waves began to carry them to shore, Caroline hopped out of the boat and helped Desmond haul it up to rest on the sand. Immediately, two of the several people standing on the shore hurried forward, and one pointed a gun at her.

"Who the hell is she?" the man with the gun demanded, and Caroline squinted against the sun to recognize him as James Ford. As intimidating as his scowl was attempting to be, Caroline smiled and raised her hands to show that she was unarmed.

"Where's Charlie?" another man was yelling as he ran down the beach towards them, and suddenly everyone was speaking at once. Caroline stood silent as Desmond tried to explain, content to feel the waves crashing around her ankles and the sun warming her face.

"Just, listen!" Desmond shouted, and finally, everyone stopped trying to talk over each other. Tensions seemed to be running high here, and Caroline wondered how they had all survived so long together thus far. "We were able to turn off the jamming equipment, but—"

"That's old news, Scotty," James replied, his gun still aimed steadily at Caroline. "Jack's already called the boat and rescue's on its way. Now, tell us what we don't know, like who _she_ is."

Desmond paled. "What? On the way? No, no…the people on the boat, they aren't who they say they are!"

James frowned and a concerned murmur rose from the small crowd gathered around them. "Then who are they?"

"We need to get in touch with Jack, now!" Desmond shouted, just as the large man who had lumbered down the beach towards them asked again about Charlie's whereabouts. Everyone began talking at once again, and ignored the man. Caroline was pretty sure his name was Hugo, and she felt terrible for him. She wanted to tell him that Charlie had tried, had done his best, and it was her fault he was dead after all, but she knew that she couldn't be the one to tell him.

"Where's Charlie?" Hugo shouted again, and everyone quieted once more, as if officially realizing his absence for the first time.

Desmond shook his head sadly and squinted at Hugo. "I'm, ah…I'm sorry, brother. He didn't make it."

The mood in the group fell at once. People who had, minutes ago, been ecstatic at the prospect of rescue, were now left despondent. An Iraqi man who Caroline couldn't place spoke first.

"What happened down there?" he questioned, eying Caroline accusingly.

"And does it have something to do with this broad who you _still_ haven't told us about?" James still hadn't lowered his gun from Caroline's forehead, and now he cocked it. Desmond waved his hands anxiously.

"No, no! She helped us, she turned off the jammer. She tried to save Charlie but…it was too late, he was shot. There was nothing we could do."

"The hell there wasn't," James muttered just as the Iraqi asked Caroline who she was.

"My name is-"

"Caroline?"

Suddenly, Juliet pushed through the crowd of people, and the sight of her familiar and welcoming face was an instant relief to Caroline.

"Juliet." She embraced her friend, despite the fact that she was still soaking wet and bloody, grateful for the presence of someone who didn't currently want to kill her.

"You know this chick?" James asked, and Juliet turned to him.

"She's an Other. Put the gun down, James."

His frown deepened and he muttered something about "can't trust anyone", but James lowered the gun regardless. Desmond motioned once more at Caroline.

"She helped us. I said we'd let her go. We…we have to let her go."

"Go where, exactly?" the Iraqi asked, and Juliet held up a hand before Caroline could respond.

"Look, Desmond says she helped accomplish what we wanted done, so let's leave it at that. Give her some room to breathe. It sounds like we have a lot more pressing matters to think about than wonder whether or not we should be taking hostages here."

At Juliet's request, most everyone wandered away, a few asking for a replay of Desmond's experience down in the Looking Glass. Juliet put her arm around Caroline and led her away from the water's edge, a little ways up the beach.

"Where've you been?" she asked. "All this time? Not in Canada, I'm guessing."

Caroline shook her head. "No, not Canada. I've been down in the Looking Glass, with Greta and Bonnie. For nine months."

Juliet frowned and looked back down towards the boat. "Greta and Bonnie? Where are they?"

Caroline chewed on her bottom lip, feeling fresh tears rise back to the surface. "They're dead."

Putting a gentle hand on Caroline's shoulder, Juliet helped guide her down to sit on the sand, and listened patiently as she recounted the whole story.

"Caroline, this wasn't your fault," Juliet reminded when she was finished rehashing every detail. "You can't blame yourself for the deaths of everyone down there. You did everything you felt was right."

She shrugged, wiping her wet cheeks with one hand, which she quickly realized was still streaked with Charlie's blood. "Well, technically I did kill Mikhail, or at least tried."

"And if you hadn't, he would have killed you along with everyone else," Juliet pointed out. "You did what you had to do."

Caroline looked at her seriously. "Juliet, you know whose boat that is." Juliet sighed and looked down at the sand.

"Yes. I know."

"You must have known, the whole time," Caroline continued. "So why are you here? Why are you on the beach, waiting like a lamb to the slaughter? You know what Charles is capable of."

"And why did you help Desmond shut down the jammer?" Juliet asked. Caroline shook her head.

"That's…that's different, Juliet. I needed to get out of that station. I need to get back to Richard."

"And I _need_ to get off this island, Caroline," Juliet said. "Even if I'm potentially risking my life trying to do so. I guess you've heard the sub is gone."

Caroline nodded. "I know, but…" She sighed, worried for her friend. "I just…he's dangerous, Juliet."

But Juliet just shrugged. "Or so Ben has told us. We'll see. If there's even a remote possibility that I can leave the island, then I need to try." She grasped Caroline's hand. "If you go to the Temple, you can never leave here. Not anymore. Things will be different now."

Caroline smiled sadly. "I don't want to leave here. This is my home."

Juliet stared at her friend for a few moments before looking away, out towards the sea, where the outline of the freighter lie in the distance ominously.

"I understand," she said finally, her voice soft. "And I expect you to understand my choice as well."

Caroline thought it over. She would have done anything to get out of the Looking Glass and back to Richard, even putting herself in danger, and even doing the direct opposite of what Ben had ordered of her.

"I do, Juliet. I really do." She reached back to release the braid her hair had been tied in, shaking out the wet strands and running her fingers through the tangles. "Ben is going to kill us both."

Juliet smiled. "Last I heard, he and Alex joined up with Jack and the rest of the survivors to try and convince them not to call the freighter. Obviously, it didn't work. I'd bet money on the fact that they're holding him hostage." She paused. "Or he's dead, too."

"I didn't tell him it was you who told Charlie about jamming all the transmissions," Caroline said. "But I'm sure he's figured it out since."

Juliet just shrugged. "I'm sure, too."

They sat in silence for a few more moments, watching the commotion further down the beach as everyone tried to figure out what their next move would be. "Seven of our people are dead," Juliet said, and Caroline felt her heart skip a beat. She listened as Juliet explained the attack team Ben had assembled and sent down to the survivors camp, where they were met with a group readied by Karl's betrayal.

"Sounds like everyone's pissing Ben off lately," Caroline noted and Juliet laughed.

"I doubt anyone sees him as a real leader anymore, but I'll let Richard explain the rest of that to you." She sobered and glanced at Caroline seriously. "Tom's dead."

Caroline closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She wasn't surprised by the rest of the names Juliet listed off, especially Ryan. Juliet told her about the deaths of Colleen and Danny Pickett some few weeks prior as well, one of which was at her own hands, and Caroline began to understand what Ben had meant about the island being under assault. She had never known this kind of atmosphere, ever. It hadn't ever crossed her mind that the island could be this dangerous. Even more so, she was reminded that she needed to get to Richard as quickly as she could.

"I need to go," she told Juliet finally. "I need to try and find everyone else before nightfall."

Juliet nodded knowingly and walked with Caroline down to the shoreline once more. "They left from the barracks just a few days ago, taking the northeast route to the Temple. If you take the outrigger down to the west shore, you should be able to cut in and catch up with them fairly quickly."

Caroline hugged Juliet once more. "Thank you. For everything."

Before they could say their goodbyes, however, they were interrupted.

"She ain't leavin'," James called, striding over with Desmond and the Iraqi man in tow. Another man had joined them, a Korean named Kwon. "We need to head out, try to catch up with Jack. And I say she comes with us."

Juliet turned to stare James down. "And I say we let her go. She had a deal with Desmond."

Desmond nodded. "Yes. I made a promise that she could leave."

James narrowed his eyes at her. "How are we supposed to know that you're not just going to double back on us and tell your people how they can make an ambush?"

Caroline smiled. "Contrary to what you may believe, James, the last thing my people care about at this point is what all of you do. We just want to get to safety as quickly as we can."

"I have to say that I am sided with Sawyer in this matter," the Iraqi interjected. "She could be potentially useful to us."

"Absolutely not." Juliet's voice was firm. "She's already helped us much more than she needed to. And if we took her hostage, the Others would stop at nothing to get her back. We don't need that to slow us down."

Caroline knew she meant Richard specifically, but the sentiment was a warm reminder all the same.

James sighed in resignation. "Fine. Get her the hell out of here."

Juliet helped her push the boat back out to sea and watched from the shore as she began to row away from the survivor's camp. Caroline glanced back once to see Juliet walk up the beach to join her new people, the group she had chosen by necessity. Caroline could only pray that she would be safe and stay alive.

It took her just under two hours to reach the west shore, ditch the boat, and start the trek into the jungle. Caroline was tired, thirsty, and grew cold as the sun went down, but she didn't stop to rest. Her goal remained the same – to get to Richard. She could only really rest once she was back to him, back where she belonged.

The jungle had grown completely dark, and Caroline was stumbling over everything she passed when the sight of campfire ahead spurred her on. She broke into a sprint, trying to avoid tree roots and rocks, finally breaking into the camp in a less than inconspicuous manner. She heard the sound of guns being raised as she approached, but ignored them. Whispers surrounded then as she was recognized, and she heard her name spoken many times, but she ignored that, too.

Finally, someone called Richard's name, and he appeared on the other side of the campfire. Caroline felt her limbs melt in relief as she rushed towards him, not satisfied until she was wrapped in his arms. She knew everyone was watching but she didn't care. She was where she had longed to be for nine months, where she never wanted to leave again, and nothing else felt like it mattered or would ever matter if she could just stay like this forever.


	16. Interlude II

**So, the good news is, now that the semester is over I have been writing like crazy on this story. The bad news is, this update is pretty short. More good news – the next one will be HUGE. Even more good news, the more/faster you review, the more excited I will be to update sooner. **

**Enjoy!**

Interlude

Later that night, Caroline slept soundly next to Richard. He stayed awake, close enough to feel her heartbeat against the smooth skin of her back, but careful not to wake her as he turned the pages of the journal she had given back to him that night. He read every word with diligence, careful not to skip a single sentence or description of the time she'd spent away from him.

When he was finished, Richard closed the book carefully and took his glasses off, setting both aside so that he could watch her as she slept. It was funny, he'd been alone for so many years, but no amount of time had seemed to stretch as long as the past nine months without Caroline. But then again, a part of him had always known that she was still on the island, and that she would someday come back to him.

He couldn't help it, and allowed his fingertips to gently trace over her bare shoulder as she slept. When she had stumbled into the camp that night and into his arms, she'd been clearly exhausted and still wet from the sea, her clothes and skin streaked with bloodstains. She'd collapsed against him and was unable to string together a coherent sentence to tell him all that had happened. After verifying that she wasn't hurt, Richard had lifted her into his arms and carried her to the nearby stream to wash the blood off of her skin and hair. He'd had one of the women bring a fresh change of clothes, and he'd helped her dress carefully as she struggled against sleep. Every time she'd tried to speak, he'd simply press his fingertips against her lips. Explanations could wait until morning.

Now, he watched her as she finally rested, and felt…complete. From the moment he'd heard her voice over the radio from the Looking Glass, all he could think about was getting her back safely. He couldn't even muster any anger at Ben for hiding her for so long and lying about it. He only felt anxious and concerned that she wouldn't make it home. But now she was here, and it was as if she'd never left.

Caroline suddenly shifted, and rolled over so that she was pressed against his side on the narrow cot. Richard was about to extinguish the lantern hanging next to the bed, but stopped when he realized Caroline's eyes were open and she was watching him.

"You should be asleep," he pointed out. "You need rest."

She smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist beneath the blanket that covered them. "I'm afraid that if I close my eyes for too long, when I open them, you'll be gone."

Richard squeezed her shoulders, feeling as if he could never get her close enough. "I'll never leave you again, Caroline."

Her eyes fluttered closed then, but she spoke once more a few moments later. "I was the one who shut off the jamming equipment. If Charles kills us all, it will be my fault."

Richard hushed her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "No one's getting killed."

"Do you think Jacob's mad at me now?"

"No."

"I just did it so I could get back to you. And I didn't want to kill Charlie, or Desmond."

"Jacob knows that."

She was silent again, and Richard wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then suddenly, she sat up and turned to look at him. Her hair was a mess in the firelight but she had never looked more beautiful to him.

"We're never going back to the barracks." It was a statement. Richard shook his head.

"No, we're not."

"We're going to the Temple? Forever?"

"Most of us will stay at the Temple because it's safe there. But some of us will continue to move camp around the perimeter of the island, to help protect it."

Caroline frowned at that. "And you'll be in the second group?" Richard nodded and her frown deepened. "Don't you dare say I'm staying at the Temple."

Richard smiled and reached for her hand, holding it tightly in his own. The skin on the back of her hand was still smooth and soft as ever, but her fingers and palms were slightly roughened with work. They'd been apart for so long, too long.

"No. You'll stay with me." Her eyes widened. "I meant it when I said I'd never leave you again. The safest place for you to be now is right here."

Caroline lay back down next to him, her head on his chest. "I'm always safe when I'm with you. But why would I be in danger?"

"Regardless of the freighter parked offshore, Charles will always be trying to find the island, and he's never been closer," Richard pointed out. He didn't embellish any further. The least Caroline knew about Charles and his plans and how they may include her, the better. "It's a dangerous time for all of us."

Caroline didn't say anything else, and Richard reached down to extinguish the lantern, leaving them darkness.

"I'm sorry you can't go home again, Caroline."

Her sigh was soft in the quiet of the tent. "I don't care about the barracks. I just care about being with you. You're my home, you always have been. Since the day we first met in the jungle." Her hand curled around his under the blanket. "I've loved you forever, Richard. Just…so you know."

Richard wrapped his arm more tightly around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, pausing a moment to inhale the scent of her hair. "I know, Caroline." He couldn't find the words to tell her just how precious she was to him, how invaluable. But before he could try, her breathing had evened out against his chest and he glanced down to see that her eyes were closed and she was fast asleep once again.


	17. Chapter 12

**Here we are again! Thanks to some encouraging reviews, my passion for this story is back! I'm working hard to get to the end, and I'm super close! So in the meantime, I figured I would update with the chapters I've had written for awhile. I'd love your feedback! It goes without saying that we are still in-canon on the show. There will be some verbatim sections, but very few...everything I leave out, I just assume you know what happened from watching the show.**

**If you need some reminding of where we're at and what's happening, I used the very helpful "post-return"timeline" from Lostpedia to refresh my memory AND try to stay as accurate to the show's chronology as possible.**

**Please review! It helps me write faster, really!**

Chapter Twelve: "Astute"

Caroline knew one thing, and it was absolutely for sure. The man that was walking up the beach towards her, Ben Linus and Sun Kwon in tow, could not be John Locke.

Maggie had spotted him first, from where she was gutting fish near the shore, and had run to Caroline first.

"Caroline," she breathed, jogging up the sand towards her. "Look."

Caroline followed Maggie's gaze out towards the three people approaching their camp. A few others had noticed them at this point, but no one was drawing guns. They'd all been waiting for Locke to return for the past three years. But now, as she watched him, something definitely did not feel right.

"I'll tell Richard," Caroline assured Maggie, who nodded and turned back to watch Locke approach with everyone else. Caroline turned her back and headed towards her tent, where she knew Richard was.

She couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort. There was something inherently different here. Even from far away, she could tell. The John Locke she'd met three years ago had not been as sure as this man, striding into their camp with purpose and no fear. The John Locke she had met had been full of questions and uncertainties.

Part of Caroline didn't know if she was qualified to be making these judgments, as she'd only met him once. Richard had filled her in all about John Locke after her return from the Looking Glass. He was a survivor from flight 815, but he was different. As a passenger on the plane, he'd been confined to a wheelchair, but upon landing, was suddenly healed and able to walk. He'd also somehow appeared to Richard in 1954, claiming he'd someday return and become their leader.

All of this information had been curiously left out of the report on the survivors that Ben had sent down to her in the Looking Glass. Caroline wasn't surprised.

"_I visited him several times off the island, before the crash_," Richard had said. _"To observe him, to figure out what was special about him_." He went on to inform her that Locke had been one of the reasons for the trip off-island that she had accompanied him on so many years ago, and that Jacob had known about the crash and who would be on the plane. Caroline's earlier suspicions had been confirmed, that Jacob did have a plan for the crash survivors. What the plan was, however, she still wasn't completely sure, and she wasn't sold that Richard knew, either.

Caroline remembered how John had looked the day she had met him, after Ben had gone off to move the island and a handful of the survivors had disappeared in a helicopter. John Locke had looked like a lot of things, but confident was not one of them. But Ben had left the island after moving it, and was never coming back, or at least that's what everyone had believed until he appeared today. John Locke was their best option for a replacement leader, right?

At least, he was, until he disappeared in flash of light, right before their eyes.

Richard had assured her, and everyone else, that Locke would be back, and until then, they would wait, and protect the island like they always had. But the island indeed had been moved and they were out of immediate danger. This had been proved by a trip to the beach, where the distant freighter was now completely gone, as if it had never existed.

Now, Locke was back. Caroline turned to look at the man one more time, realizing that whatever he was carrying over his shoulders was apparently a dead boar. She frowned and hurried the rest of the way to the tent, the wind whipping against her face and hair. Richard was sitting at the table, working on his ridiculous ship-in-a-bottle hobby.

"Richard." She waited for him to finish tugging at a sail and set the tweezers down, removing his glasses to look at her. "He's back."

He didn't require any further explanation, apparently, because Richard stood instantly. Caroline moved aside so that he could exit the tent and watch as Locke approached with the boar.

"I…don't believe it," Richard muttered, and Caroline raised her eyebrows. Hadn't he said Locke would be back someday? Did he recognize what she did, something different in the man? But before Caroline could ask questions, Richard went to approach him down on the beach. Against her better judgment, Caroline followed.

"I brought dinner," Locke greeted, heaving the boar off his shoulders and down to the sand. "Hello, Richard. It's been awhile."

"John," Richard replied, still sounding unsure. "It's been…three years."

Locke shook Richard's hand and turned to Caroline. She felt her throat go dry when his eyes met hers. "Caroline, hello. Good to see you again."

She couldn't find any words, and nodded instead, thinking of John Locke as she remembered him, when they'd met for the first time.

"_John,_" Richard had said, motioning between them. "_This is Caroline._" Locke had taken her hand within both of his larger ones, and smiled at her, almost gratefully. The look in his eyes that day had been nothing like the look in his eyes today. He had looked surprisingly weak, something that had been startling to Caroline at first, but today she found herself wishing that it was that sad looking man that was standing there with them on the beach.

Caroline found herself taking a few steps back as John and Richard continued to talk, and she looked down the beach to see Sun and Ben standing a few feet away.

"Who is that man he's talking to?" she could hear Sun ask, and Ben stared at them for a few moments before replying.

"His name is Richard Alpert. He's a kind of…advisor. And he's had that job for a very, very long time."

Sun motioned towards her, and Caroline tried to pretend like she wasn't listening in. "And who is she?"

She didn't want to watch Ben while he spoke, but the tone of his voice changed in his reply. "That's Caroline. I guess you could say that she's…" Caroline waited, expecting him to say something like _the reason all of this happened to us_. "She's…Richard's wife."

She looked down at Ben then, surprised by his description. No one was really married on the island, unless they came here like that. The only things that Caroline knew of marriage was what she had read in books, like _Wuthering Heights_ or _Jane Eyre_ or _Pride and Prejudice_. What she read about marriages was that they were bonds, usually arranged by outside sources. Though she loved Richard and didn't ever want to leave him, she couldn't see that they were, in any way, married. There was something more about their union, something that transcended a legal bond.

Caroline didn't have time to think more on the subject, because Sun was suddenly at her side, holding a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. The look in her eyes was desperate.

"Were you here in 1977?" she demanded, holding out the paper towards her, which Caroline now saw was a picture of Dharma recruits from the aforementioned year. She shook her head and pointed at Richard, who, with Locke, watched them.

"No. But he was."

Sun's pleading gaze shifted from Caroline over to Richard, and she made her way to him, asking questions about the people in the picture. Caroline turned to Ben, who still stood some distance away from her, watching and waiting. She started towards him, and strangely enough, he looked worried. This was not the Ben she remembered, either.

"Hello, Ben." Caroline stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. Though she hadn't seen him in years, and hadn't really ever expected to see him again, she began to feel the same feelings of anger towards him that she'd harbored for so long rise to the surface. "What are you doing here?"

Ben stared at her and hesitated a moment. "I'm not quite sure, Caroline."

"You weren't supposed to come back," she pointed out. "You moved the island. Richard told me that you'd be gone forever."

"I'm just as surprised as you are, trust me," Ben deadpanned. "But don't worry. I'm clearly not your leader any longer." His gaze moved past her to rest on Locke.

Caroline pressed her lips together. Ben might not have been their leader anymore, but she was still angry. "Tell me, Ben. How did it feel?"

Ben's eyes met hers again and he frowned. "How did what feel?"

A lump rose in her throat and Caroline clenched her fists at her side. "How did it feel to watch Alex die? To know that you were responsible?"

Ben's shoulders sagged and he looked down at the sand. "Caroline. She was my daughter."

"No, she wasn't," Caroline shot back, aware that her voice was raising at its own accord. "She was never _your_ daughter, Ben. She was a girl that you kidnapped and watched die. You _knew_, you always knew what was going to happen."

"No, I didn't," Ben insisted, looking up. "It wasn't supposed to happen the way that it did. And I know that I killed her, Caroline, but she _was_ my daughter. For sixteen years, she was my daughter, whether you agree or not. And yes, I did have to watch her die." He took a step closer to her, but Caroline didn't feel threatened by him, not anymore. "And it felt…I don't even have the words to tell you how it felt. Like a part of me…"

He trailed off, and Caroline watched as Ben, someone she had not trusted, someone she had disliked for as long as could remember, seemed to emotionally crumble, right in front of her. And to her surprise, she felt her own anger give way.

"Caroline." A strong hand on her shoulder distracted her, and she turned to see Richard, his eyebrows lowered in concern. "Come on."

She looked back at Ben, who was now turned away from them, staring out at the ocean. Richard tugged on her arm again and she followed him wordlessly. Could she really be feeling…pity? For Ben, of all people?

Richard led her up to one of the tents, pulling out some canteens and handing them to her. She frowned in confusion and looked up.

"Richard? What's going on?" she asked, and Richard stopped what he was doing, turning to look at her.

"I need you to take these out to the stream and fill them." Caroline looked down at the canteens, a couple of which were already half full. Chances were, Richard was just trying to get her away from Ben before she started an all out brawl. She didn't have the energy to tell him that her frustration with Ben had somehow just melted away.

"Why?" Richard wiped his forehead and stepped closer to her.

"I'm going with Locke. He says he has…an errand for us to run, and we need to leave before nightfall."

"I'll come with you," Caroline replied, but Richard shook his head.

"No, Caroline. You'll stay here."

Caroline frowned; she and Richard had hardly been apart for more than a few hours in the last three years. He'd made a promise to her, a promise that he would never leave her, and he'd kept it. But now that John Locke was back, and weirder than ever, he was leaving her alone?

"But, Richard—"

He silenced her with a short kiss, his hand cupping her jaw gently. "I'll be back before sunrise tomorrow," he promised. "I need you to stay here, with the rest of our people. It's a confusing time right now, and they need to look to someone they trust while I'm gone. Alright?"

Caroline only felt her frown deepening. "I'm not a leader, Richard."

"I'm not asking you to be." His thumb stroked her cheek softly before he let go. "Go to the stream, Caroline. I'll be here when you get back."

She sighed but strung the straps of the canteens over her shoulder without further argument. She left the tent and turned for the jungle without looking back at the beach. Caroline didn't think she could take another look at this new version of Locke without losing the fish she'd eaten for lunch. Something was going on, she could feel it, and she knew that Richard felt it, too. Why he wasn't sharing it with her was the real question.

It was just a short walk to the stream from camp, but Caroline found herself relishing in the silence and solitude. She tried to focus her mind on other things, but even the way the sunlight filtered through the trees and the sweet sound of birds calling to each other could not take her mind off of the sickening feeling in her gut. Her forehead was started to hurt from frowning, and by the time she reached the stream, she set the canteens aside and knelt on the soft bank, scooping her hand into the water to get a quick, cold drink.

After splashing some more water over her face and the back of her neck, Caroline took a deep breath and reached for the first canteen to fill. Since two of them already contained water, it only took a few minutes to fill all three completely. She paused to wonder who else was joining Richard and Locke on their errand – she knew it wasn't her, could it be Ben? That wouldn't make a whole lot of sense, but neither did anything else that was happening since Locke had appeared that afternoon with a boar slung over his shoulder.

Caroline slung the canteens over her shoulder and stood. A movement caught her eye on the opposite side of the river, and she turned, expecting one of Mikhail's old cows turned loose.

Instead, she saw her father.

The sight of him was so startling that Caroline stumbled over nothing, dropping one of the canteens into the stream. She couldn't take her eyes off the person staring back at her on the opposite bank, and the canteen floated slowly away. Caroline could feel her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand but she was too afraid to move, to blink, to speak.

She had almost convinced herself she was hallucinating when her father spoke.

"Caroline." John Hawthorne's voice was exactly the way she remembered it, steady and authoritative. He didn't sound dead at all. "Now is the time."

Caroline opened her mouth to speak or scream but no sounds came. She struggled to move her feet, feeling as though she were trying to run through a bad dream, like her legs were stuck in wet, slushy cement. Finally, her limbs obeyed her mind and she began to move backward slowly. Her father still stood on the other side of the river, unmoving, but she was afraid he would come closer to her if she closed her eyes for even a second.

"Now is the time for you, Caroline," he repeated, apparently speaking at a normal volume, but even from the distance his voice rang as clear as a bell. "Do not disappoint me."

The phrase was so familiar that Caroline finally found it in herself to cry out, and she turned away abruptly, breaking into an awkward run and tripping almost instantly over a stray tree root. She hit the ground hard, her next breath knocked out of her and elbows scraping the rough earth painfully. But she didn't hesitate to scramble back to her feet, fingers clawing at the dirt desperately as she pulled herself up and struggled to escape. She ran at a breakneck speed all the way back to camp, fearful to turn around lest she see her father following her.

When she emerged from the trees, Caroline realized quickly that she must look like a crazy person. Thankfully, everyone was still enamored with the return of Locke and the fresh boar he'd brought. No one paid any attention to her, instead gathered in small, whispering groups or helped to build the fire and stake to roast the boar on. The only one who noticed her arrival seemed to be Locke himself.

At the realization of his gaze, Caroline stopped short, struggling to catch her breath. Locke stood near the shore, a mango in hand, watching her carefully. She straightened up and wiped a hand over her forehead, trying to look casual. Locke's expression broke into a smile and he raised a hand to wave at her, his other raising the peeled mango to his mouth to take a bite. Caroline struggled against a scowl and returned the wave grudgingly.

"What happened to you?" Richard's voice broke into her thoughts and Caroline watched Locke stroll down the beach to join Sun before turning to him.

"What?" she questioned, realizing that she was still out of breath and something warm, probably blood, was trickling down her elbows. Richard frowned, catching her arm and leading her to their tent.

"What happened?" he repeated, pushing her down to the chair he had vacated earlier. Caroline noted briefly that he had already packed his ship in a bottle away somewhere safe. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

The phrase soured Caroline's stomach and she closed her eyes, leaning against the table heavily. She couldn't tell Richard about seeing her dead father, not now. Not right before he was heading off on some escapade with Locke.

"I was…running. To get back here. I tripped and fell." She glanced down at the two canteens she carried and sighed. "And lost one of the canteens. Sorry."

Something cool pressed up against the broken skin of her elbow and she winced, glancing back at Richard. He was holding one of his handkerchiefs to the cut and watching her carefully.

"Are you alright, Caroline?" he asked. At her quick nod, Richard rested his hand on her leg and looked up at her seriously. "If you need me to stay, I will."

Caroline's eyes stung briefly and she looked away, remembering the words her father had spoken to her in the jungle, moments before. "No. No, I'm fine. Really."

It was clear he didn't believe her, but Caroline forced a smile. "Just…go. If Locke needs you, then…go."

Richard's frown didn't dissipate but he finished cleaning up her elbows and stood, taking the canteens she handed him.

"Sorry about the last one," Caroline said again, and Richard managed a small smile.

"We've got a few full ones," he admitted. "I just wanted to get you away from Ben before you tried to break his nose."

He pulled her to her feet and kissed her forehead quickly before releasing her and starting off down the beach to Locke. Caroline watched as Ben reluctantly joined them, and the trio set off towards the jungle, the sun setting at their backs.

The commotion in camp didn't stop as a few of the men set up the boar on a spit over the fire they'd started. Everyone seemed in good spirits – there was fresh boar meat for dinner, their new leader was back. Everything was golden. But there was one person sitting on the outskirts of the excitement, back turned to the boar roasting, as the waves washed up at her feet. Caroline sighed and crossed the camp to join Sun Kwon.

All Caroline knew about Sun was what she had read years ago in the file Ben had compiled. She was young, born and raised in Seoul, Korea, and heiress to a rather large fortune. Regardless, she had married a poor fisherman's son against her father's wishes, and entered into a somewhat rocky marriage as her new husband took up working as a glorified hitman for her father to make ends meet, so to speak. Now, she sat staring out at the ocean, chin in her hand, and looking terribly alone.

"Can I join you?" Caroline asked, and Sun glanced up at her.

"Of course," she replied, and Caroline sat down on the cool sand, glancing out at the last streaks of light on the horizon. "I'm Sun."

Caroline smiled. "I know who you are."

Sun folded her hands in her lap and stared down at the sand. "I'm not surprised." She glanced at Caroline briefly. "How long have you been here? On the island?"

"My whole life," Caroline replied. "Twenty-seven years. Why?"

"Do you know who my husband is?" Sun questioned, again pulling the crumpled photograph from her pocket. She didn't try to show it to Caroline, just smoothed her hand over the creases carefully. Caroline noticed that Jin wasn't even in the photo. "Do you know anything about him?"

"I know enough," Caroline admitted. "But I'm sorry, I don't know where he is right now."

Sun frowned and folded the photo back up again. "I think I do. I'm just not sure how to get there."

Caroline didn't try to understand her cryptic statement and turned to look back out at the ocean. The two women sat silently next to each other for what felt like hours, until the night turned dark, lit only by torches up the beach and behind them. Caroline felt her stomach protest in hunger, and she craned her neck to see boar being served out.

"Are you hungry, Sun?" she asked, but Sun shook her head. "There's an empty tent you can stay in tonight, on the far side of camp. I'll have someone set up a cot for you."

Sun glanced over at her briefly. "Thank you," she acknowledged, and Caroline nodded. She rose and crossed the beach to join the rest of her people, taking a nicely sized hunk of boar and wrapping it into a banana leaf for Sun, anyway. She asked Maggie to set up the spare tent for Sun and took a piece of meat for herself, only slightly reluctantly.

"Hey, Caroline." Someone stepped up next to her, and it was Nick, the old sub tech. Or at least he had been, until it blew up. Now, he was picking at a piece of boar with his fingers and his eyes were just as alight as everyone else's. "Exciting day, huh?"

Caroline couldn't help it, she glanced behind her towards the jungle. But there was no sign of Locke, Ben, or Richard returning early from their journey. Not yet, anyway.

"I guess so," she said, taking a tentative bite of the boar in her hands. She didn't really think anything was wrong with it, but she had a hard time eating it in such a celebratory way as everyone else. Regardless, they didn't have boar very often, and it tasted like heaven, so she took another big bite.

"She's one of them, huh?" Nick was asking, pointing at Sun. "One of the ones who left. How'd she get back?"

"No idea," Caroline replied. "But I'm sure there's a good reason for it."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Nick said goodbye before wandering off to join a few other people. Caroline finished her piece of boar and resisted getting a second helping, instead returning to Sun with the boar she'd saved and one of the extra full canteens.

Sun didn't look up as she approached, so Caroline set the food and water down wordlessly before heading back up to her tent. She paused to take a quick glance back and saw that Sun had already started in on the boar meat. Caroline smiled and said goodnight to the few who passed her before slipping into her tent and pulling the opening closed.

Caroline lay awake for a long time, listening to the conversations going on outside as they slowly died down with the fire, and others started to head to bed. She was certain that she wouldn't get any sleep tonight, at least not until Richard returned. She could barely remember the last time she'd spent a night without him…her time in the Looking Glass seemed like it had been ages ago. She started to think about Bonnie, and Greta, and even Charlie. Before she knew it, her eyelids started to flutter and droop.

Almost as quickly as she'd fallen asleep, Caroline was jolted awake by a commotion outside. What quiet there had previously been was gone, and she sat up to listen. It sounded as though everyone who had gone to bed was now up again, and gathered on the other side of her tent. She scrambled up, not bothering to put shoes on, and poked her head outside to see what was going on.

Everyone in camp seemed to be gathered around in a large circle. Caroline stepped out of her tent and stood on her tiptoes to see what was in the center. Instead, she saw Richard and Locke on the far side of the gathering, speaking about something rather heatedly. Locke broke away rather quickly and announced something to the entire group.

"Hello, everyone," he greeted. "My name is John Locke."

_As if we didn't already know that_, Caroline thought bitterly and rounded the back of the circle to stand near Ben.

"What's going on?" she whispered. Ben glanced at her briefly before turning back to Locke.

"John wants to go see Jacob," he replied, sounding exhausted. "And he wants us to go with him."

Caroline's eyes widened and she tuned back in to Locke's speech, feeling her expression form into a frown as he spoke.

"Now, I'm sure there are very good reasons why his existence and whereabouts are secret," Locke continued. "I just don't know what they are. And to be honest with all of you, if there's a man telling us what to do…I want to know who he is."

Outrage began to pool in the pit of Caroline's stomach. She opened her mouth to speak, to cry out that _she'd_ seen Jacob, _she_ believed in him, _she_ wanted to follow his orders. But almost as soon as she began to speak, Ben grabbed her arm in a death grip, wrenching her back.

"Caroline, don't," he warned, his eyes wide and focused on Locke. John hadn't seemed to notice Caroline's attempt at mutiny, however, and was continuing to speak, answering Sun's query about Jacob being able to bring Jin back with an emphatic "absolutely". Caroline was stunned that everyone was murmuring their agreements to this preposterous plan, so stunned that she didn't notice her hand going numb from Ben's tight hold on her arm.

_Why was no one realizing how wrong this was?  
_  
Caroline looked past Ben to Richard. She'd become an expert at reading his expression over the years. Now, his eyebrows were drawn low and straight across, and his mouth was set in a hard line. His gaze was on Locke, but she could see that his eyes were dark with perplexity – something that Caroline had rarely seen in Richard. The knowledge that he wasn't sure what to do scared her almost as much as John Locke did.

With Locke's announcement of his plan to leave to see Jacob, with Richard leading the way to the statue, everyone broke off excitedly, heading to their own tents to prepare for the pilgrimage. Caroline stayed still, watching, realizing that Ben was still clutching her arm and her bare feet were freezing. She pulled away from Ben and strode over to Richard, touching his arm gently.

"What's going on?" she demanded. Richard looked at her slowly, his eyes flicking past her to Ben.

"I'm starting to think John Locke's going to be trouble," he admitted. Caroline frowned and heard Ben sigh behind her.

"Why do you think I tried to kill him?"

She blinked, once, twice, before turning to face Ben once again. "What?"

Ben glanced around but no one seemed to take notice of them; everyone was too busy rushing around to get ready for the surprise Jacob trip. Richard stepped forward, putting his hand out.

"Wait, you were the one who killed John?" he asked. "How…why?"

Ben's face flushed in the dim light from the nearby fire. "It's complicated, Richard."

"Back up, please," Caroline interjected. "Locke was dead? And now he's alive?"

Ben shrugged sarcastically. "That's what it would seem, wouldn't it, Caroline?"

Caroline ignored his jab and turned to Richard. "Is that normal?" She knew that the island could heal, but she had never heard of anyone or anything coming back to life.

Richard ignored her question, looking at her as if he had realized she was there for the first time. He took her arm, touching the same spot that Ben had grabbed, and she winced.

"We don't have time for this," he said, leading her away from Ben and back to their tent. He allowed the front flap to close behind them and lit the lantern that rested on his old chest.

Caroline wrapped her arms around herself and watched as Richard rummaged around the tent, gathering things and organizing things and packing things away. With every moment that he didn't speak to her, she began to feel more and more frightened of what was to come. For three years, she'd relied on Richard to comfort her and keep her safe, and now she felt challenged to handle something like this on her own. It was a foreign feeling, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Richard," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. But it got his attention, and Richard stopped what he was doing to look at her. "I'm…scared."

Setting down the books in his arms, Richard crossed the tent to where she stood. His arms wrapped around her and Caroline relaxed against him, finally feeling protected there. Richard had been oddly detached from her since Locke had shown up again, and it was a relief to know that he was still there.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against her hair. "I am. But I can't tell you what's going on, Caroline, because I'm not quite sure myself."

"I noticed," she mumbled into his shirt. "It's terrifying."

Richard chuckled at that and held her closer. "I promise that you'll be safe. I won't let you get hurt. But Caroline, I told John I would take him to Jacob, and I have to do that. He is…our leader."

Caroline pulled away to look Richard in the eyes. "You can't possibly believe that man out there is John Locke."

Richard frowned and pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm not sure what you mean."

She shook her head, suddenly feeling very tired. "I'm not sure, either."

After a short pause, Richard sighed and motioned towards their bed. "Locke's agreed not to leave until sunrise. We've got a good hour or two – you should try and get some rest."

Caroline was about to argue that she couldn't sleep a wink as long as Locke was back, but held her tongue. Richard tipped her chin up then, and kissed her slowly and carefully. She kissed him back, reveling for a moment in the feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. But deep down, where it mattered, Caroline knew that, after this, nothing was going to be okay ever again.

For a long time, Richard and Caroline stood holding each other silently in the middle of the tent. Finally, Richard pulled away and steered her towards the cot.

"Lie down and rest," he pleaded softly, and Caroline obliged him, finding a comfortable place to lie and watch him as he continued to pack things up in his trunk. Finally, she felt her eyelids begin to grow heavy again.

But almost as soon as she'd fallen asleep, she was being shaken awake.

"Time to go," Richard was murmuring, smoothing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I packed your bag and left a change of clothes out for you. Can I get you something to eat?"

Caroline frowned and shook her head. She felt like she'd lost her appetite for good.

Richard pressed a quick kiss to her lips before disappearing, leaving her alone in the tent. Everything they owned had been put away, all of Richard's books and journals and papers, her sketchbooks and picture frames and her mother's old mirror she'd managed to scavenge from her house in the barracks. Caroline dressed quickly and took one last look around before picking up her bag. _Goodbye to another home_, she thought.

Everyone was already gathered outside on the beach, some chattering softly, others standing quiet with anxious looks on their faces. Caroline chose to remain on the outskirts of the group, trying to avoid talking to anyone.

She saw that Locke was already apparently raring to go, and stood a few feet off from the group, listening to Richard speak. Caroline watched them from the cover of a nearby tent, noting the way Richard moved his hands as he talked. He looked pleading, bordering on frantic. But Locke simply listened with that cryptic little smile on his face, and seemed to dismiss Richard's bargaining altogether. He shook his head and said something firmly, pointing at Richard, before turning to address the group.

"Everyone ready?" he called out, and a buzzing murmur raised up in reply. "Let's go, then!"

With that, the group began moving en masse, following John and Richard at the forefront of the group. Caroline was content to stay in the back, feeling sullen. Just yesterday, everything had been normal. For the past three years, everything had been normal. Then, all of a sudden, John Locke is back and her whole world gets thrown off its axis, once again.

The journey to the statue was different this time. They followed the shore instead of cutting through the jungle as Caroline had done with Richard some ten years earlier. Trudging through the sand was tiring, and Caroline was content to walk slowly. Those who passed her stopped to say good morning or attempt conversation, but moved on when they realized she was in no mood for being a raconteur.

"Good morning." Someone else's voice broke into her thoughts, and Caroline looked up just as Sun tossed her a mango. She caught it and glanced down at the ripe fruit, contemplative.

"Thank you." She pulled a small pocket knife out of her bag and sliced the fruit into pieces as they walked side by side. "Sleep okay?"

Sun just smiled. "Sleep? I didn't."

Caroline didn't blame her.

"Do you really think that Jacob can help me find Jin again?" she asked suddenly, and Caroline felt an overwhelming sympathy for Sun. She tried to imagine being in her place, alone and trying to find Richard. She didn't want to.

"Jacob can do whatever he wants. And I'm sure that he knows exactly where Jin is," Caroline replied, choosing her words carefully. She chewed her mango slice slowly and glanced at Sun. "Has John told you anything else about Jacob?" _ Any more lies?_

But Sun shook her head. "I've never even heard of him before today. Who is he?"

Caroline didn't even know how to answer that question to herself, let alone Sun. "He's…kind of in charge here. He has been, for awhile."

"What about Locke? And Ben?" Sun asked. "I thought they were the leaders of your people."

"Yes, but…the leader exists only to help us do what Jacob wants. Or that's the way it's supposed to be, anyway." Caroline looked up ahead to see John falling back to speak with Ben. "As far as I'm concerned, my loyalty has always been to Jacob. Not to Ben, and it won't be to Locke, either.

Sun didn't seem to notice her dry tone. "And who is Richard? He seems to have some sort of power over everyone. Ben said he was an advisor?"

"He is. He's a sort of….go-between for Jacob and whoever the leader is at the time. Again, he answers to Jacob first."

"And, who are you?" Sun demanded. "If you're Richard's wife, you must be important. You said you've only been here for 27 years, but somehow he's been here even longer. I don't understand."

"I don't really understand either," Caroline admitted, shifting her bag over her shoulder. "And I'm not Richard's wife."

"But Ben said…"

"I know what Ben said. But we aren't married, not in the way that you and Jin are. We're just…" Caroline trailed off, unsure how to put what she had with Richard into words.

"You love him," Sun stated, and it wasn't a question this time. Caroline nodded, looking away from her inquisitor's searching gaze.

"More than I can say."

Sun looked thoughtful. "Then you understand how I feel."

"I'm trying to, Sun." She paused, making a quick decision. "And if I can help you find Jin, in any way, I promise to do whatever I can." She knew that Sun's motives were pure, whereas Locke's she still wasn't sure about.

"So, how long have you been not married to Richard?" Sun asked. Caroline smiled in spite of her bad mood.

"It feels like always," she said. "I've been in love with him since I was 9, as strange as that must sound. But it took awhile to convince him that it was okay for us be together."

"How old is he?"

Caroline shook her head. "That, I don't even really know. He's been on the island since the late 1800s."

"How?" Sun asked. "How is that possible?"

"Like I said, Jacob can do whatever he wants." Caroline finished her mango and tossed the pit away into the tree line. "Sun, you need to know that whatever questions you ask me about this place are just going to lead to more questions, most of which I won't be able to answer."

Sun sighed. "I know." She quieted then, and they walked together silently for some time.

With the exception of a few short breaks here and there, the walk to see Jacob was long and seemingly endless. The sun rose higher in the sky and began to slowly lower in the west as they continued down the beach. Caroline mostly walked with Sun, and Ben joined them a few times, but she tried her hardest to avoid Locke, who seemed to making odd little rounds around their group, chatting amicably with whoever he passed. Caroline watched him warily as they traveled.

Suddenly, the terrain began to look slightly familiar. Caroline realized they had entered the 815 survivors' old camp, long since abandoned. The last time she'd been there, bodies of their people had been strewn across the sand, covered with old tarps and blankets. Now, the camp was in shambles, old tents and shelters ripped apart by the winds and high tides.

"Alright everyone," John called out suddenly, taking his pack off. "Richard tells me we should get to where we're going by nightfall. So why don't you all take this opportunity to rest up and catch your breath? Considering what I have planned for you, you're gonna need it."

Caroline frowned as everyone dispersed around the old camp. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you really want the answer to that?" Ben asked from behind her, and Caroline half-turned to face him.

"Something tells me you already have it," Caroline noted, removing her bag and discarding it on the sand. "You and Locke certainly are chummy these days."

Ben didn't respond to her jab, just sighed tiredly and passed by her to sit further down on the beach. Caroline's frown deepened – whatever had happened to Ben when he was off the island had certainly changed him, too. This made her uncomfortable as well.

She'd hardly had a chance to sit down when Richard approached her.

"You doing okay?" he asked. Caroline looked up at him with a shrug.

"All things considered, I guess I'm alright."

Richard crouched down in the sand to be eye level with her. "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

Caroline was tired and wanted to rest, but she could see how exhausted Richard was as well. She nodded. "Of course."

"Chris has the water reservoirs," he informed her. "Will you hike to the water source? It's just a couple miles from here, or so Locke tells me. Fill them up there and bring them back for everyone to fill their canteens."

Caroline had carried the large leather water reservoirs from place to place before. They were heavy enough empty, but when filled with a couple gallons of water, they were torturous. But bringing them back to the beach would save everyone the trip of going inland to fill their canteens, and Caroline knew she could find the river and make the trip easily.

"Take someone with you to help carry the bags," Richard suggested as she stood. He took her hand briefly and squeezed it gently. "Thank you."

Sun was one of the only people not sitting around in small groups, and Caroline watched her as she retrieved the leather reservoirs from Chris. Sun was wandering around what had apparently been a makeshift kitchen for the survivors. A large table fashioned out of what looked like part of the plane wreckage remained, while the bamboo shelves nearby were in a fair state of destruction.

"Sun," Caroline called, heading towards the forest. "Will you help me with something?"

Apparently pleased to have a diversion from reminiscing about her previous life on the island, Sun agreed to help Caroline retrieve water and carried two of the reservoirs over her own shoulders.

On the way out to the water source, Caroline listened to Sun talk about living on the beach and their trips back and forth through the jungle daily, whether to visit the old Dharma Swan hatch or retrieve fresh water from a place she referred to as "the caves". When they arrived at the source, Caroline saw that the river had indeed come to a waterfall near a cluster of shaded caves.

Sun knelt near one side of the river to begin filling one of the bags. Caroline took the heavy bags off of her shoulders and knelt near the base of the waterfall, taking the opportunity to splash some of the cold water against her face and neck. She picked up her own canteen and filled it quickly from the waterfall, taking a long drink before dunking it back under the flow to fill up again. But the rushing water knocked the canteen from her grip, and it fell down into the shallow basin below.

Caroline leaned down to reach for the canteen, but before she could pick it up, she was interrupted.

"Hello, Caroline."

The voice was not Sun's, and Caroline straightened up. Across the waterfall, sitting on a black rock, was a man. He had short, light hair, and Caroline did not know him. But she knew exactly who he was.

"Jacob," she exclaimed. His sudden appearance shocked her enough to shake her balance, and she grabbed onto the rocks she leaned against for support. "What…what are you doing here?"

Caroline glanced behind her for Sun, but she was nowhere to be seen. Was this a dream? But how could she have fallen asleep? Was she hallucinating again, like the day before with her father?

"You're not hallucinating," Jacob reassured her. "But, you could say that I'm not really here. Not right now, anyway."

Caroline didn't understand, but for some reason that was okay. "Is something wrong?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, Caroline, everything is going exactly the way it's supposed to. I'm here to tell you what you're going to need to do next."

Swallowing thickly, Caroline sat back on her heels, waiting. Though she hadn't seen Jacob since she was a child, seeing him again made her feel exactly the same as she'd remembered…a feeling of calm descended over her, and she felt like no matter what ridiculous things he was about to order her to do, everything was going to be okay.

"Go with the others to the statue," he said. "Continue on course. When you get there, what happens will shake your faith in me, but I need you to stay focused. Do you think that you'll be able to do that, Caroline?"

Caroline nodded, not even thinking about questioning what was going to happen.

"Everyone will have questions," Jacob continued. "Everyone will want to know what's going on and what they should do next. And they'll look to you for answers, as a leader."

"But…what about Locke? Or Richard?" Caroline asked, and Jacob held up his hand.

"It's your turn, Caroline," he insisted. "This is something you've been preparing for, for a long, long time."

Caroline hadn't known she'd been preparing for anything, but she nodded anyway.

"You'll need to instruct everyone to go to the Temple, but you won't be going with them. Instead, you'll be meeting up with an old friend. From the statue, you'll go directly to Hydra Island."

Jacob's last set of instructions were the most confusing, and Caroline rubbed her suddenly aching forehead. "An old friend? Who?"

"You'll find out in time," Jacob assured her. "Now, it's time for you to get back to your people."

"Wait, Jacob." Caroline wasn't ready for him to leave. "I…I have so many questions."

Jacob just smiled. "I know you do." But he made no promise to answer them.

"Will I see you again?" she asked frantically, afraid to blink lest he vanish into thin air. Finally, _finally_ Jacob was actually within reaching distance…and there was so much she wanted to know. Was she safe? Was anyone safe? What was Locke up to? Would she and Richard ever get to be together, forever, the way that she wanted?

Jacob opened his mouth to answer her question, but his words were drowned out by another nearby voice calling, and Caroline turned away for an instant. When she looked back, Jacob was gone, and she was kneeling at the edge of the riverbank, alone. Within seconds, however, Sun was at her side, shaking her shoulder gently.

"Caroline? Caroline, what happened to you?" she demanded. Caroline blinked and tore her gaze away from the empty spot where Jacob had been mere moments ago, meeting Sun's eyes.

"What?" she asked dumbly. Something warm was trickling down her temple.

"You're bleeding!" Sun exclaimed, reacting quickly. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed it into the water before pressing it onto Caroline's forehead. The pain was swift and intense, and Caroline closed her eyes with a grimace. "Are you ok?"

"I must have hit my head on the rock when I dropped my canteen," she murmured, pulling away from Sun to glance down at the pool below the small waterfall. The canteen was trapped in the current and bobbed beneath the fore of the water pouring down on it. Caroline started to lean over for it, but Sun stopped her.

"You need to take it easy," she instructed, plucking up the canteen herself.

"I'm fine," Caroline replied, standing up slowly. Sun began to protest, but Caroline didn't give her time. She saw that Sun had filled all four of the reservoirs, and she lifted two, not stopping to allow herself to buckle under their weight.

"Can you grab the other two?" she asked Sun over her shoulder, and began the walk back to the beach. Sun followed without complaint, though Caroline could feel the air of her disapproval the entire time.

When they emerged from the jungle onto the shore, Richard stood about fifteen feet away, talking quietly with Ben. However, as soon as he saw Caroline and the blood on her face, he strode over purposefully, immediately lifting the heavy bags off of her shoulder to discard them on the sand.

"What happened?" he asked gently, taking her face in his hands and examining the cut carefully. Caroline waited a moment to reply, relishing in the warmth of his hands on her skin and the way he had always cared for her, always put her protection first. Richard would never let her get hurt if he could help it.

"Caroline." His voice interrupted her thoughts, and she met his slightly worried gaze. "Are you alright?"

"I hit my head on some rocks," she admitted. "I'll be okay." Immediately, she wanted to tell him everything...about her dad appearing to her the day before, and about Jacob's instructions mere minutes ago. She knew that Richard would have an explanation, he had to. But now wasn't the time, not with Sun lingering a few feet away, and Ben within earshot. The real problem was that Caroline wasn't sure when she would get the chance to speak with Richard alone again.

Richard sat her down in the shade, asking Ben and Sun to help fill and distribute canteens before returning to her side with his pack.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, pulling out the small canvas pouch he stored first aid supplies in. "Because you look terrible."

"Thanks," Caroline snapped. She felt overwhelmed with several different emotions all at once. She was exhilarated from her meeting with Jacob, angry that it had passed so quickly, anxious about what was about to happen next, and most of all, her head was killing her. A fresh trickle of blood dripped onto her cheek, and she wiped the sticky spot away, frustrated.

"Caroline, what's going on?" Richard stilled her hand and held it tightly in his. "Please. Tell me."

Jacob's words echoed in Caroline's mind. More than anything, she wanted to pour her heart out to Richard. But, something held her back. She wasn't sure if it was the crowded beach they were on or something else. Either way, she forced a smile.

"It's nothing. I'm just…nervous. About everything."

Richard didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything else. He did, however, press an alcohol soaked cotton pad to the cut on her forehead, and Caroline sucked in a breath.

"Damn it!" she yelped, catching the attention of several people sitting nearby. "Richard, what the hell?"

"I have to clean out the cut," Richard pointed out, but Caroline didn't miss the smirk on his face. She sat silently as he finished cleaning and bandaging her forehead. When he was finished, she watched him pack everything away, piece by piece. Richard was silent, as if he was giving her the opportunity to speak, to tell him the truth.

But Caroline said nothing.

"Feel okay?" Richard asked, motioning to her cut, and she nodded.

"It's fine. Thank you."

Richard nodded slowly, and Caroline had to look away from his penetrating gaze. She'd never kept anything from Richard before, ever, and it now felt like there was some kind of invisible barrier between them. She didn't like it, but she couldn't shake the feeling that telling Richard about Jacob's visit would be a bad idea.

Richard tucked the little canvas bag back into his pack before turning to look Caroline in the eyes.

"I love you, Caroline," he reminded, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "No matter what happens."

Caroline nodded. "I know. And I love you. I always will."

They shared a quick gaze before standing and parting ways. Caroline glanced at the retreating sun and wondered how much longer before Locke insisted they keep moving. She had a lot of thinking to do.


	18. Chapter 13

**Since I feel bad for taking literally YEARS to finish this story, I plan to update every day until we get to the end. So, the story will be officially finished by the end of the week! But either way, please review!**

Chapter Thirteen: "Carried"

Caroline didn't really consider herself a person who was likely to get angry. But the rage that boiled up in her upon seeing this man who was now clearly not John Locke storm down the beach to confront Richard was surprising. She watched, along with everyone else that was in a 100 foot radius, as he strode away from the statue and approached. The fireworks from the temple had been released and Caroline could feel her fingernails digging into her palms as she stood up.

"What in the hell is that?" Lapidus had asked her, regarding the pyrotechnics, but she hadn't gotten a chance to answer before Locke appeared.

The sound of guns being raised and cocked echoed all around and Caroline reached back to feel for her pistol, stashed carefully in the back of her waistband, as she watched. Ben approached as well and stood near her, Lapidus, and Sun, looking just as shocked as everyone else, even as Richard called out for everyone to hold their fire. Caroline could not stifle a shudder as the man passed by her, nor could she ignore the look on Richard's face as he neared.

She couldn't hear what words had been exchanged between the two of them, but she didn't need to. Locke's jab to Richard's throat came all too suddenly, and she acted instantly.

"Hey!" she cried. _Orders or not, why isn't anyone shooting? _ She reached for the gun shoved in her pants as she approached, but found out too late that it was missing. Richard already lay unconscious on the sand as she hurried to his side, but was stopped by a strong arm in front of her, wielding her own gun. How the hell?

"Looking for this?" Locke questioned, waving her gun at her before removing the clip and tossing it aside carelessly. "Get away from here, Caroline."

His words did little to hide his identity, and Caroline knew now that the look on Richard's face before he'd been incapacitated had meant more than shock at being affronted by a dead man. She could feel her eyes widen in the same manner, but she was prepared to fight. He wasn't taking Richard anywhere without her if she could help it.

"I know who you are," she hissed, moving to get around him, but the back of his heavy hand collided with her face all too quickly, and she was caught off guard, knocked down hard into the sand. Her vision swam for a few moments and she struggled to stay conscious.

When she was finally able to sit up, Sun was at her side, Ben standing over her. Richard and Locke were gone.

"Where did they go?" she mumbled, struggling to stand, but her head swam and she would have fallen over if not for Sun's grip on her arm.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Caroline shook her head, rubbing the spot where Locke's knuckles had connected with her jaw. It was already swelling, but she ignored it.

"Which way did they go?"

"Caroline, if you're thinking about going after them, it's the wrong idea," Ben pointed out. "I think we all know just what kind of problems we're up against now."

_No kidding_, Caroline wanted to say. In the course of the past ten hours, they'd been joined by a group of strangers who'd claimed they were acting on Jacob's orders, been presented with the real Locke's dead body, and, most recently, had found out that Jacob was apparently dead.

Caroline didn't have time to mourn, no one did. The signal from the Temple meant that it was time to move, and fast. Confused and frightened murmurs were rising up from all around the beach – the atmosphere among their party had very quickly turned from excitement to dread.

_Just like Jacob said it would_, Caroline thought, and her heart wrenched for a moment as she remembered their brief meeting the day before. If only he had warned her, if only he had asked for help.

"Caroline." Sun's soft voice broke into her thoughts. "If that man isn't John Locke…then who is he?"

This was a question that Caroline considered completely unanswerable. So she shook her head and forced herself to gather her bearings and stand. Ben grabbed one of her elbows while Sun grabbed the other, and they helped her regain her footing on the sand.

Lapidus, standing nearby, wasn't satisfied. "I don't know what the hell is going on here, but something tells me that we aren't exactly safe where we're at."

He was right, but Caroline ignored his statement for the moment. Shrugging off Ben and Sun, she forced herself to press past the throbbing pain in her face and remember Jacob's instruction. Sure, Richard had just been dragged off into the jungle by an apparent madman, and things were crumbling into chaos more quickly than she could keep up with, but she still had a job to do.

Still apparently wary of the recent additions to their group, most of Caroline's people stood huddled together, murmuring amongst themselves and eyeing the smoke trails still in the sky. Nick was the first to step forward and meet her halfway.

"What's going on?" Nick asked, his gaze darting behind her to eye Ben, Sun, and Lapidus warily. "And what happened to those guys who went in the statue?" Nick was referring to the group of strangers that had arrived with Lapidus in tow. Several of their largest men had just disappeared into the statue, fully armed, and had not yet returned.

"Probably dead," Caroline replied, wiping her arm across her forehead quickly. "Doesn't matter. Do you know how to get to the Temple from here?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Then I need you to get everyone there, and fast. Leave now."

Nick shook his head, clearly confused. "But, what about you? You're not going to go after Richard, are you?"

The temptation to abandon Jacob's orders and do just that was almost too much for Caroline to bear. But she reminded herself that Richard knew what he was doing. He could take care of himself. She had work to do. She would not fail, not here.

"No. I have other plans."

Nick frowned but didn't argue, just nodded and starting spreading the word that it was time to head out. A few people said goodbye to Caroline as they passed, but most just stared at her, almost accusingly. Caroline brushed it off; her mom had always told her that choosing to do the right thing would never make you popular. She strode over to where Locke had apprehended her earlier, and scooped up her gun, replacing the clip before tucking it back into her waistband.

Sun, Ben, and Lapidus still watched her carefully, and she struggled to make up a quick excuse for her choice to remain on the beach. But before she could, someone emerged from the statue.

Ilana had arrived as the apparent leader of the group of strangers from the Ajira flight. So far, she'd spoken Latin to Richard, waved her gun around, and given everyone orders. Caroline wasn't sure what kind of threat she posed, if any, but she wasn't prepared to trust her quite yet.

"What's going on?" she demanded. "Where is everyone?"

"They went to the Temple," Caroline replied. Ilana nodded, seemingly accepting this answer.

"We should go there, too. That will be the safest place for us."

Caroline frowned, but refrained from asking Ilana just what she knew about the island and the Temple. It was startling that an entire group of people had just manifested themselves, seemingly knowing more about her home than she did.

"Do you know how to get there from here?" she asked, and Ilana nodded. "Great. You can lead them."

"What about you? Where will you go?" Ilana asked.

"I have different orders from Jacob."

To Caroline's surprise, Ilana nodded. "Alright." She nodded towards Ben, Sun, and Lapidus. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

"What makes you think I'll go anywhere with you?" Sun demanded. She turned to Caroline, her gaze pleading. "You said that Jacob could help me find Jin."

Caroline sighed and looked up at the sun, already high in the sky. It would take her almost a full day to cross the island to get to the east shore. She needed to get moving. "Sun, if Jin is here, alive, then he'll be at the Temple. You should go with Ilana."

Sun looked unconvinced. "Where will you go?"

"I have something I need to do. Hopefully, I'll be able to catch up with you later at the Temple." Caroline wasn't so sure about the last part, but it seemed to pacify Sun slightly. To Caroline's surprise, Sun embraced her quickly.

"Please be safe," she said, and Caroline nodded.

"I'll do my best."

Ben approached her next, as Sun went on to inform Ilana that John's body needed to be buried. Ben looked slightly sheepish, and Caroline couldn't entirely blame him. She was certain at this point that he hadn't expected anything like this to happen.

"Will you go after Richard?" Ben asked, and Caroline shook her head.

"No. I…want to. But that's not what I'm supposed to do."

Ben sighed, looking down at the sand. "You were always strong-willed, Caroline."

Caroline said nothing, and Ben paused before continuing. "I'm sorry…I'm very sorry for everything I've done to make your life more difficult. I'm sorry I sent you to the Looking Glass. I'm sorry I tried to keep you away from Richard. I'm sorry that Alex is dead."

Ben really did look remorseful, and Caroline began to actually empathize with him. It was a foreign feeling, but she waited to hear him out.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," he finished lamely. "I did what I did because…because I thought I had to. I knew that you were special, you always have been. I wanted what you had." He hesitated. "I saw Jacob only once, today, but you…you've always seen Jacob. I never told Charles or Richard because I thought they would change their minds about me if I did. And I'm sorry for that, too."

Caroline chewed on her bottom lip. Finally, Ben admitting that he _had_ tried to make her life terrible. Ben apologizing. Something she had been waiting for…for a long, long time. This was her opportunity to tell him what a bastard he'd always been, to clock him right in the face. Her fist clenched at her side.

But instead of hitting Ben, Caroline did something else, surprising even herself.

"I forgive you, Ben."

Ben looked up, eyes wide. "You do?"

Caroline gave him a small smile. "Yeah."

Despite the look of shock on his face, Ben nodded slowly. "Thank you." Caroline doubted that Ben had ever apologized to anyone before, let alone been forgiven.

Caroline was about to pick up her bag and take off, but Ben stopped her.

"Who is it?" he asked. "Do you know?"

She knew who he was referring to.

"I can't say for sure," she admitted, pausing to take a drink out of her canteen and sling her bag over her shoulder. "But I have an idea."

Ben was still frowning, clearly still put out by not being privy to some of Jacob's highest instruction. Caroline hadn't always necessarily been either, but in the past three years, Richard had filled her in on some gaps in the island's history.

"_You'll need to be prepared,"_ Richard had told her. _"For anything. For the completely unexpected."_

He'd told her the story of how he'd arrived on the island, on the Black Rock, about his first meeting with Jacob, and he'd also told her about someone he described as The Man in Black. The description had been brief, but Richard insisted that he was the most dangerous thing on the island, and somehow related to the column of black smoke that had plagued its inhabitants for centuries. Caroline had never actually seen it, but she'd heard stories, and even as a young girl it fed her nightmares.

Now, knowing of the possibility that this "evil entity", as Richard referred to it, had taken over John Locke's body and was attempting to kill everyone on the island so that he could finally leave…well, it was disheartening to say the least.

But Caroline tried to push the thought out of her mind and keep moving, keep concentrating on Jacob's directions. She had work to do, and she didn't have time to stop and mope about the current predicament.

"I have to go, Ben." Caroline gestured towards where Sun and Ilana were observing Lapidus wrapping up John Locke's body in a tarp. "You should go with them, to the Temple. It'll be safe there." _Hopefully_, she thought. But Ben didn't question her, just nodded.

"Goodbye, Caroline."

"Bye, Ben."

Caroline didn't look back as she crossed into the jungle, leaving the beach and Jacob's statue behind her for what may have been the last time.

For several hours, she walked as quickly as she could without stopping. Eventually, her canteen ran dry, but it was easy to locate the river on her trek. From the statue on the west coast of the island, it was more or less a straight shot through the jungle to the opposite shore, from which she could reach Hydra Island easily. Caroline didn't slow down long enough to question who exactly she would meet when she got there, and she didn't allow herself to even begin thinking about Richard.

Sundown came more quickly than she expected, and Caroline pressed on through the darkness as long as she could, eventually having to stop and fashion a torch as the jungle began to settle into pitch blackness. As she had no kerosene or even a match on her, the process took Caroline a considerably longer time than usual. While she worked on getting a spark to light on the arm of an old shirt she had wrapped around a branch, Caroline willed herself not to think about anything other than the action of starting a fire. A few times, her thoughts strayed to the Temple and what was going on there, but she quickly squelched any thoughts of unease. She had to stay focused.

Caroline wasn't sure how early in the morning it was when she began to trip over everything in her path. She'd been walking nonstop for hours that had begun to blend together. The previous morning seemed years away, and she was exhausted. As much as she didn't want to think about trying to sleep, she knew that she needed to make camp somewhere. And with no tent, sleeping bag, or even a blanket on her, she started to look for some kind of alternative to shelter.

She wasn't sure how she managed to find it, but eventually she stumbled, literally, across the wide metal hatch that covered the entrance to the Dharma Pearl station. Caroline had never been out there herself, but she had mapped the island out by heart, and this told her exactly where she was. She had apparently traveled over 20 miles throughout the day, which gave her about 8 miles left to go until she reached the east coast of the island. That last eight miles could wait, however, and she wasted no time hoisting the heavy door open and climbing down the ladder.

Caroline put her torch out after locating the light switch, only mildly surprised to find the electricity in the station still operable. She glanced around the small octagonal room quickly, uninterested in the bank of monitors and computer. She tossed her bag on the ground and curled up in one of the padded chairs. She was asleep within seconds.

When Caroline woke up, all she felt was a the dull ache of pain radiating throughout her entire body. A visit to the Pearl's tiny bathroom told her that the unattended bruise on her face from Locke's warning yesterday had swelled and darkened considerably. In addition, her back and neck ached from sleeping in the chair, and her legs were considerably sore from the non-stop hiking she'd done yesterday.

Caroline washed her face in the sink and ransacked the bathroom for any first aid supplies. She came up with a half empty bottle of rubbing alcohol that had expired in 1994 and a few q-tips. Making due, she cleaned out the scrapes on her face and arms quickly before moving out. She wasn't sure how long she had slept, but there was not a lot of time to spare.

Sunlight poured into the hatch as she lifted the heavy metal door and climbed out. Glancing around, she estimated it to be fairly early still, and continued her hike for the beach. She felt as if she'd only gotten a bare minimum of sleep, and was in some desperate need of coffee and food. Caroline tried to remember the last time that she'd eaten as she walked, and could only vaguely remember picking some fruit on her passage yesterday, sometime late afternoon.

Promising herself she'd get some fish when she reached the beach, she pressed on, barely aware of her surroundings.

But Caroline had never excelled at fishing. When she finally reached the shore, she spent at least twenty minutes trying to unsuccessfully spear several different fish. Her knife was too small, too dull, and her hands were shaking with exhaustion, fear, and frustration.

"Damn it!" she cried, hurling her knife down the beach in anger. Richard had always caught her fish before; she was better at cooking and gathering fruit and plants than any kind of hunting. The reminder of Richard coupled with her aggravation was Caroline's emotional breaking point.

Finally giving in to the desperation she felt in every part of her body, she sank to her knees in the sand and began to cry for the first time since everything had started to go to hell. She wept unintelligibly for what felt like hours, until no more tears came and her throat was raw from sobbing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried like this…not even when her mother died had she felt this alone, this helpless.

"Caroline."

The soft voice was instantly recognizable this time. Caroline looked up to see Jacob sitting a few feet from her on the shore. She wasn't altogether surprised to see him, but that familiar feel of comfort and calm was absent this time.

"You're dead," she pointed out. "You're dead, Jacob."

Jacob just nodded. "I know."

Caroline sat down heavily in the damp sand, wiping her face on her shirt. "Then what are you doing here?"

Jacob just smiled, looking out in the distance towards Hydra Island. "I'm not here, Caroline."

She shook her head, still frustrated. It would have been nice to see Jacob earlier, years ago, days ago, but not now. Now, it wasn't worth anything. "So, what, I'm just seeing dead people now? Is that my new weird thing?"

Jacob looked back at her. "Who else have you seen?" The tone of his voice said he already knew the answer.

"I saw my dad," Caroline replied anyway. "In the jungle a couple of days ago."

"What did he say?"

"He told me not to disappoint him. And that it was time."

"Time for what?"

Jacob's innocent question was the last straw and Caroline threw her arms up, exasperated.

"Like you don't already know," she shot back. "You know everything, Jacob, isn't that right? You know everything, and you don't tell anyone _anything_. Ever. That's just the way life is, that's just your little game."

Jacob, seemingly unaffected by her outburst, scratched his head casually. Caroline briefly wondered how someone so dead could look and seem so alive. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know where the hell you were!" Caroline shouted. "Where were you my whole life? Where were you when all this crap started happening? When everything started falling apart?"

Jacob didn't respond, and Caroline realized that she wasn't done.

"Where were you when my mom died?" she demanded. "And why _did_ she die? Were you there, in the statue, when Richard brought me? Or was it the principal of the thing, that I wasn't supposed to be allowed there, so you couldn't meet with me? But then why did I see you when I was a kid? Ben said that made me special, but it didn't, because it didn't _mean_ anything. I've been just as clueless as everyone else this entire time, so why? Why bother?"

Caroline realized that she was crying again, but Jacob just listened to her tirade silently. So she kept going.

"And why didn't you ask for help yesterday?" she asked, her voice just a little quieter. "Why did you just let yourself get killed? You knew what was going to happen, why didn't you tell me? I could have done something, you could be alive, I…" She paused, staring out towards the horizon. "Things could be different."

Jacob shook his head slowly. "No, Caroline. It was always going to end up this way."

Caroline wanted to tear her hair out. Finally, Jacob was here, or not here, to answer her questions and of course he would be the most cryptic person alive. Or dead. "What does that _mean_? You've always known? That you were going to die and this…this evil was going to take over the island and kill us all? Then why are we here, Jacob? Why am I here?"

Jacob met her gaze. "You have a lot of good questions. But I have one for you."

Caroline sighed and rested her head in her hands. "Of course you do."

"What would have been different?"

Caroline opened her eyes and looked up. "What?"

"If I was here, the whole time, as you've wanted me to be," Jacob clarified. "What would have been different about your life?"

Caroline frowned. "I…I could have known what was going on. I could have made the right choices."

Jacob smiled. "It's not a choice if I tell you what to choose."

His words made sense, but Caroline didn't feel any better.

"Okay, so why am I here, then?" She looked around the beach, motioned towards the jungle. "If we're all just going to die, what is the point of this? Of my life? If you know what's going to happen, why not just fast-forward to the end? I'm just a pawn, you don't need me."

"I can't tell you what the point of your life is," Jacob admitted. "No one can."

"Right." Caroline rolled her eyes and threw a rock out into the surf angrily. She should have figured it would be this way.

"But I can tell you that there is a reason for everything that has happened to you. Everything has led up to you being here, at this moment. All things, good and bad, have led here." Jacob picked up a rock as well, a smooth light colored one, and tossed it from hand to hand. "The truth is, things could now end in two different ways. A good way, or a bad way, to put it simply. And I do need you. If I didn't, you wouldn't be here."

"So everything has happened to me _because_ you need me?" she asked, and Jacob nodded. "Ok. So I go over to the Hydra, meet with…whoever, and then what?"

Jacob smiled again. "Just because I'm talking to you right now doesn't mean I'm going to tell you everything. The choice is still yours, Caroline."

"So I could choose _not_ to do anything?"

"Of course."

"And what would happen then?"

"Can't tell you that, either. But hopefully you can take my word that it won't be good."

Caroline nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The left side of her face still ached, and she winced.

"Fine. But I do have a few more questions." She glanced at Jacob, but he was still staring out at the ocean and passing that rock around in his hands. "When I was 17 and I went out to the statue…were you there? Even though I didn't see you?"

Jacob looked at her again. "I never had the power of invisibility, if that's what you're asking."

This seemed to be Jacob's way of making a joke, and Caroline allowed herself a small smile.

"So you weren't there?" Jacob shook his head.

"No. But I didn't need to be. I already knew everything you were going to say."

This wasn't the response Caroline expected, but it seemed to make her feel better nonetheless. Her head suddenly felt clear and, as tired as she was, freshly energized.

"Is…is Richard dead?" she asked quickly, almost having to choke the words out. The thought constricted her chest uncomfortably. Could he even die? She wasn't sure, and Jacob probably wasn't telling.

"Can't tell you," he replied. Caroline sighed and looked down at the sand. "But I can tell you that there is a way for you to be together, if that's what you want, both of you."

Caroline's heart leapt into her throat. _So he is alive?_ "How? He's…he won't…"

"Richard has been on the island for a long, long time," Jacob continued. "He has served faithfully, despite being sometimes as oblivious as you or anyone else. He deserves happiness."

It was clear that Jacob wasn't about to tell her just what or how that happiness would be achieved, but Caroline felt, for the first time in the last 24 hours, hopeful. Finally.

"It's almost time for you to go." Jacob nodded towards Hydra Island and stood up. Caroline followed suit. "Our friend should be arriving shortly. He'll be expecting you."

Caroline didn't bother asking who it was. "Did you want me to swim?"

Jacob shook his head. "No. Take the outrigger."

He pointed down the beach a little ways, where the boat was resting on shore, waves lapping around its base. Caroline knew it hadn't been there before, but she didn't bother pointing that out.

She turned back to Jacob. "One more question?" At his nod, she took a deep breath. "Ben said…Ben told me that I was special. I don't know what that means."

Jacob smiled again but it was a sad, humorless smile. "I don't know what that means, either. Someone once told me that I was special, too. But I didn't believe her." Jacob raised his hand and set it gently on Caroline's shoulder. The weight of it was real, warm and definite. Not the touch of someone dead. "Caroline, you're not perfect. You're impatient, whiny, and you lack faith. But that's not what makes you who you are. Just like being special is not what makes you important."

"What does, then?" Caroline asked, her voice soft and small.

"You have a reason for being here," Jacob pointed out. "There is a reason behind everything you do, everything you have done. Even the things that haven't made sense to you, all of it has been culminating and preparing you to become the person you are in this moment." He paused. "Ben thought that, in order to be special, he needed constant confirmation…people around him, telling him that he was important and a good leader. But that's not what makes Ben special, and that's not what will make you special, either. You were special to your mother, because you were a miracle. You're special to Richard, because he loves you. And you're special to me because of what you're about to do."

Jacob let go of her, and motioned out towards the island. "It's time for you to leave."

He helped her push the boat out into the gentle waves, and Caroline paused before she got in, looking back at Jacob. "Will I ever see you again?"

Jacob shook his head. "No. You won't."

"Well…" Caroline wasn't sure what to say, but she knew it had to be something. "Thank you, I guess."

Jacob smiled. "For what?"

She shrugged. "Finally answering my questions."

"You always knew the answers," he reminded her. "Goodbye, Caroline."

"Goodbye, Jacob."

Caroline climbed in the boat and began to paddle out to sea. She glanced back once, but Jacob was already gone.

It took about 10 minutes to reach the west shore of Hydra Island. Caroline pulled the boat up onto the sand and left it there. Jacob hadn't told her which way to go to find this "friend", so she started walking the shore, in the general direction of the Hydra compound. Eventually, she came along the leftovers of the Ajira plane wreckage, but there didn't seem to be any living people in sight.

Caroline had been walking the shore for about 15 minutes before she realized she was being followed. Whoever it was remained hidden in the tree line. She guessed they probably had a gun, but she made a point not to reach for her own, choosing to let her tracker continue to think they were in control.

Finally, Caroline stopped walking and crouched to tie her shoe. It didn't need to be tied, but she figured it would give whoever was lurking in the trees a good opportunity to corner her. As planned, when she straightened up, several people with guns had surrounded her.

"Take that gun out of your belt," one man ordered, motioning at her with the cocked rifle in his hands. Caroline complied, removing the revolver from her waistband and tossing it to the ground. She raised her hands to show that she wasn't further armed, and the man stepped forward to pick up her weapon and pocket it.

"Who are you?" another called, this one a woman.

"My name is Caroline Hawthorne," she replied, hoping this would have some sort of effect. If not, she wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to say. After all, she didn't even know who she was looking for.

Thankfully, her name seemed to cause some sort of recognition. The woman lowered her gun a fraction of an inch and glanced at one of the other men, the first to speak. He returned her glance but didn't lower his weapon.

"Come with us," he instructed, motioning at her once again with his gun. With the woman falling into the lead position, Caroline followed them up into the trees, quite aware of the weapons being pointed at her back the entire time.

They had only walked for a few minutes before emerging back onto another part of the beach, where a temporary dock had been constructed, leading to the emerged hatch of a submarine. Caroline frowned – who would bring a sub to the island? Only someone who had been here before, with an exact idea of how to arrive. With the Looking Glass and its sonar system destroyed, getting to and from the island with relative ease had become a thing of the past.

The woman leading their little troupe stopped to talk to the armed guards at the sub entrance. Caroline heard her name dropped quietly, and the men nodded as if in understanding. They stepped aside, allowing the woman access, and one of the men behind her nudged her shoulder blade with the barrel of his gun.

"Go on." Caroline obliged, climbing down the ladder after the woman. She met her at the bottom and pointed her down the long hallway.

"This way."

Caroline followed the woman up to the door of a cabin, where she knocked and waited. A muffled voice inside allowed entry, and the woman poked her head in.

"She's here."

The response was unintelligible to Caroline, but the woman stepped aside to allow her entry to the cabin.

"We meet again, Caroline." Charles Widmore sat behind a small desk, watching her as she stepped inside. "It's been quite awhile."

He motioned for her to sit down on one of the folding chairs in the room, and Caroline obliged, a little shocked. Charles? Charles was who Jacob wanted her to meet with?

"Leave us, please," Charles instructed the woman at the door, who nodded and disappeared.

"How long have you been here?" Caroline demanded, and Charles glanced at his watch. He was older, considerably older, and he didn't look like the Charles Widmore she remembered. He looked like a man who had spent his life in office buildings and fancy apartments…not living in the jungle.

"Just a couple hours now," Charles replied, moving some papers aside on his desk. He leaned forward and stared at her, expressionless. "Jacob told me to expect you."

Caroline frowned. "You spoke with Jacob?" Charles had been off the island for almost 14 years, and as far as Caroline knew, had never really communicated with Jacob even before that. Richard had always been the mediator between the two, that's just the way it was. "When?"

Charles leaned back in his seat. "Some time after my freighter was destroyed. He paid me a visit in London and told me everything I needed to know."

"Everything about what?"

"How to get back to the island, the mistakes I made before." Charles shook his head. "But I think we're getting ahead of ourselves. I can sense your apprehension, Caroline, and I think I know why it exists."

Caroline resisted an eye roll. "Charles, if you know what's been going on here for the past several days, you won't blame me for being apprehensive."

"I have a vague idea of the recent chain of events," Charles replied. "You're saying, then, that your mistrust of me is not based on the lies Benjamin Linus has been feeding you for almost half your life?"

"Charles, you know just as well as I do that Ben has never been the most truthful," Caroline said. "He exaggerates. But you didn't help your own case by sending a freighter full of military personnel to torch the island and everyone on it a few years back."

"I had my reasons," Charles shot back. "I was angry, Caroline. This was _my _island, _my _home, these were _my _people." He pointed at himself as he spoke, growing more heated with every word. This was the Charles Caroline remembered – an oftentimes unreasonable hothead with a tendency to fly off the handle at any moment. "Linus kicked me to the curb, he banished me. I was humiliated and wanted nothing more than to get back here."

"What Ben did was unwarranted," Caroline conceded. "But I saw the men you sent here. The men that strapped explosives to their bodies and put a gun to Alex's head."

"I didn't pull that trigger, Caroline," Charles reminded her. "Ben had a choice, he always had a choice."

"Even if Ben had surrendered, you can't tell me they wouldn't have murdered us all without a thought." Caroline's insides twisted at the memory. "I know how angry you were, but your methods were a little extreme."

Charles rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I made a mistake. I made many mistakes. Jacob showed me that."

Had Jacob himself not told Caroline to go to the Hydra and sit down with Charles, she wasn't sure if she would have believed him. Sure, it was possible for Jacob to leave the island, but only under dire circumstances. If Jacob was using Charles as a last resort, their current situation was dismal indeed.

"I didn't come back to take control of the island, Caroline," Charles assured her. "Not this time. I came because we have work to do."

"We?" Caroline echoed. "What do I have to do with…all this?" She motioned around at the cramped room, full of filing cabinets and high tech looking gadgets.

"Jacob told you to come here today, is that correct?" At her nod, Charles continued. "The island is under assault, by forces of evil stronger than I can even begin to describe to you."

Caroline held up a hand to stop him. "I know. Richard told me about…about him. The Man in Black."

To her surprise, Charles almost winced at the name. "So, you know that John Locke is dead?"

Caroline nodded. "I saw his body myself."

"Then you know that what we're dealing with is extreme, and it is imperative that we stop him from leaving the island." Charles paused and glanced at a few papers on his desk. "If we fail, not only the island will perish. But the rest of the world as well. Do you understand?"

To be honest, Caroline didn't understand. Not at all. But she did know that this was where Jacob wanted her. "Okay. But how do we stop him?"

"We must prevent him from leaving the island," Charles repeated. "That, or kill him."

"Which is probably impossible," Caroline pointed out. Charles shrugged and rummaged through some papers on his desk.

"The Ajira flight crash-landed onto this island. The plane is still relatively intact. If I'm guessing correctly, that will be his first method of escape. My first order of business is to rig the plane with explosives."

"Okay," Caroline replied. "And what's my part in that? Did you want me to go out and handle the C4 myself?"

"Not at all. My associates will take care of it." Caroline wondered just how many gun-toting "associates" Charles had brought with him. "Your part is to make sure Desmond Hume stays alive."

That was the last thing Caroline was expecting to hear, and she sat up straight. "What? Desmond Hume?"

"Yes, Desmond Hume." Charles rustled some papers around on his desk and paused for apparent dramatic effect. "I have him on the submarine. Heavily sedated, of course. But here, nonetheless."

"Why? How?" Caroline was utterly befuddled. The last time she had seen poor Desmond was on the beach after their return from the Looking Glass. He, of everyone, deserved to get off the island permanently, and she had been relieved at the news that he had made it off the freighter safely. She knew of Charles' rather personal vendetta against Desmond, and she felt her blood begin to boil. "What use is Desmond to us here, Charles? Is he just another sacrifice for you to offer up?"

Charles scowled. "Please, Caroline. Give me the benefit of the doubt. Desmond is a failsafe, as ordered by Jacob. I've brought him back because he'll be needed should all of the remaining candidates be killed."

"Candidates?" Caroline echoed. She'd heard the word recently before, something Ilana had spouted off about. "Candidates for what?"

"I'm sure you know by now that Jacob is dead," Charles said curtly. "And someone will need to take his place. This is a process that has been in action for many years, though almost no one has truly known about it."

This must have been true, Caroline thought, or she would have heard about it from Richard.

"So who are the candidates?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Charles admitted. "Though I have some guesses that most of them are Oceanic survivors."

Caroline felt oddly put out by this, but tried to brush the feeling aside. Why had Jacob brought in others when he had so many people of his own to choose from? Had they not been good enough? She shrugged past her discomfort.

"Regardless, it is vital that Desmond stays alive. Do you understand?"

Again, Caroline did not, but she nodded anyway.

"How am I supposed to protect him?"

"First, you'll need to return to the main island," Charles announced. "You'll meet back up with the group you left at the Statue. The last I heard, most everyone who ended up at the Temple was killed, or chose to join Locke."

Caroline closed her eyes. "Which makes them basically dead anyway."

"Exactly." Charles finished clearing his desk and folded it back up into the side of the filing cabinet it had been lowered from. "Once you reconvene with whoever you can find alive on the main island, you'll need to make your way to the Arrow."

Caroline's eyes snapped open again. "Wait, what? The Arrow? Why?"

To her immense frustration, Charles just shook his head. "I can't tell you that."

"Charles…"

He held up his hands in surrender. "I can't tell you, Caroline, because I don't know. Remember I'm acting on specific orders from Jacob. This is what he wanted you to do."

Caroline sighed, frustrated. "Fine. But what does that have to do with Desmond?"

"In all probability, nothing. Desmond will remain at the Hydra as long as possible, but it will most likely be only a matter of time before Locke will find out I have him." Charles folded his hands in his lap and leveled a gaze at Caroline. "I'll need you to be my contact on the main island to keep an eye on whatever may end up happening to him. Desmond_ must_ stay alive."

"Alright. I'll do my best."

"Good." Charles stood, and Caroline followed suit. "I can find someone to escort you back to the main island—"

"That won't be necessary," Caroline replied. "I can take the boat I came in on."

Charles didn't try to dissuade her. "Fine."

"But your men took my gun," she said. "I'll need a replacement."

Charles pursed his lips and opened up a nearby cabinet with a small silver key pulled from his pocket. The inside was well stocked with one of every kind of gun Caroline had ever seen in her life.

"Rifle?" Charles asked, and Caroline shook her head.

"You know I've always been partial to handguns."

Charles smiled and removed a compact S&W pistol. "Indeed you have. I taught you to shoot with my own Colt 45."

Caroline remembered this vividly, the solid weight of the pistol in her trembling hands and Charles impatiently urging her to pull the damn trigger already. It had taken days of practice until she was even able to hold it straight. She was thirteen.

She checked to make sure the gun was loaded before pocketing it, and only hesitated for a moment before shaking Charles' outstretched hand.

"I always knew what you were capable of, Caroline," Charles assured her. "Always."

Caroline wasn't sure if his statement really constituted as a compliment. She shrugged it off.

"Thanks, Charles."

No one pointed any more guns at her as she exited the submarine and left the dock behind. Most everyone stared, but Caroline ignored them. The sun had risen high in the sky, and she needed to get back to the main island. She knew returning to the Temple wasn't a good move, but she had a feeling about where she may find a few still left alive.

She paused on her way through the jungle to pick a mango, and promised herself that she would do her best to catch a fish in the stream tonight. It couldn't be harder than what Charles had just asked her to do, after all.


	19. Interlude III

Interlude

Richard stood in the courtyard of the Temple, bodies strewn throughout. He'd walked through the inner building half a dozen times. No one was left alive.

All around him lay bodies of friends, people he had known for years. In addition, there were people he had never even spoken to. Dead, all of them.

Richard crossed the courtyard and entered the pool room. The spring still bubbled, as if nothing had changed. Hands in his pockets, he rounded the pool until he came to the far steps. Dogen's body had drifted in and rested against the bottom step, bobbing slightly with the current. Richard knelt near the stairs, hands over his face.

It was all over.

Everything. Everything he had ever done, ever lived for, ever pledged allegiance to was gone.

Even Caroline.

He'd combed the bodies, looking for her, to no avail. But deep down, Richard knew that she was dead. She had to be. If her body wasn't here, it was on the beach, or in the jungle, or maybe the Evil still had her. The thought caused Richard's insides to wrench painfully.

No, it would be better if she were already dead.

Richard pulled his hands away from his face and looked at them, as if seeing them for the first time. For one hundred and forty years, his hands hadn't changed. They looked the same as the day he'd arrived on the island. Just like the rest of him.

He could still remember the weight of Jacob's touch on his shoulder, the quick squeeze of his grip. That was the moment he'd given up everything.

Had he finally been absolved of his sins? After all this time? Richard had little to no memory of the life he'd led in El Socorro. But he remembered the moment he'd killed that doctor, and he remembered the moment he'd discovered Isabella, lifeless. He tried not to think of those moments often, but they were always there, just under the surface.

He'd never felt guilty for loving Caroline until this moment. Huddled on the Temple floor, rubble and death all around him, Richard felt guilt for his whole life. His whole freakishly long, pointless life. Why had he asked to live forever? He should have just died when he had the chance.

Now Isabella was dead, Jacob was dead, and Caroline was dead. And he was all alone, and none the wiser for it.

Richard stood and glanced around the room one more time before leaving the Temple. He stepped over the bodies in the courtyard, leaving them behind. He wasn't sure what he was more angry about – Jacob screwing him over, or the fact that he even cared.

There was only once place for him to go now. It was where he had come to the island, and it was where he would leave the island. It only made sense, and Richard was mildly surprised that he hadn't thought of it before.

Maybe he had been too busy making lists, following rules, and taking extravagant journeys for negligible purposes. Hadn't he arranged to have a man killed by a bus once? If anything, he hadn't _absolved_ his sins at all – he'd multiplied them. If he wasn't going to hell before, he was most definitely going now.

Richard wasn't afraid. What could the Devil do to him that hadn't already been done?

What a crock of shit.


	20. Chapter 14

**Getting close to the end...one chapter and an epilogue after this. Hope a few of you still care...if you do...let me know!**

Chapter Fourteen: "Remiss"

Caroline had never been to the small clearing that she stumbled into the next morning. She seemed to have happened upon it by accident on her way back to the old survivors' beach camp, and all that appeared to be there was a crumbled old stone bench near a tree. Before she could get any closer, voices stopped her in her tracks.

"What…what do you mean, we all go to hell?"

"Dude, she's the one that said it. I can't tell you what it means."

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she's gone."

Caroline peered through the leafy braches that concealed her, moving one aside to see one of the 815 survivors, Hugo, standing in the clearing with Richard. At the sight of him, apparently alive and well, Caroline felt her heart swell, almost to the point of pain. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them aside quickly, a smile spreading over her face. From where she stood, she could only see the back of his head, but she had never known how happy just laying eyes on someone could make her. She was about to move forward into the clearing when their continuing discussion made her stop in her tracks.

"Are you okay, man?" Hugo asked, reaching out a tentative hand to lay on Richard's shoulder. Caroline moved through the trees silently to get a look at Richard's face. What she saw was startling – not only was Richard bruised and dirty and more disheveled than she had ever seen him, he looked as if he'd been crying.

"Other than the fact that I just used you as a medium to communicate with my dead wife, I'm fine," Richard replied, using his wrinkled shirtsleeve to wipe his face.

Caroline's full heart deflated slightly, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she frowned in confusion – had Richard just said something about a _dead_ _wife_?

"Did she say anything else? Anything at all?" Richard demanded suddenly, and Hugo shrugged.

"All she said before she…well, disappeared…was, uh…'Caroline is alive'. Whatever that means."

At the mention of her name, Caroline's frown deepened. Richard, however, stood up straight, his eyes wide.

"What? She said what?"

"Caroline's alive," Hugo repeated. "Who's Caroline?"

Taking her cue, despite her slight shock, Caroline stepped out of the trees and into the clearing, prompting both men to look over at her in surprise.

"I'm Caroline," she announced. Hugo cocked his head.

"Oh, hey. I remember you. Girl from the underwater hatch thingy."

Before she could reply, Richard had her in his arms. In spite of her confusion at what she'd just overheard, Caroline couldn't help but feel tremendously relieved. Letting her bag slide off of her shoulder, she wrapped her arms around him and felt that he truly was alive, solid and real.

"Caroline," Richard breathed, pulling back to look at her. He took her face into his hands, as if making sure she was really there as well. "I thought you were dead."

"I thought _you_ were dead," she admitted, laughing a little as the tears started to roll down her cheeks again. "All I saw was that…that _thing_ carry you off into the jungle, and…"

Richard interrupted her with a kiss pressed to her dry lips. "I know. It's okay. I'm okay," he assured her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…I'm fine," Caroline replied. "Kinda hungry. But I'm alive."

Richard touched the bruise on her face delicately. "Caroline. It's so good to see you."

"You, too." Caroline looked over Richard's shoulder to where Hugo stood, trying to look away politely. "Hello again, Hugo."

Hugo waved awkwardly. Richard pressed one more kiss to the top of Caroline's head before releasing her and bending down to pick up her bag.

"So, you guys are like…together?" Hugo asked, and Richard smiled at Caroline. He looked tired, and relieved.

"We are now," he said. Hugo nodded and looked around.

"Cool. So…what now?"

Richard shook his head. "Now...we go back to the beach camp."

"But Ilana like…thinks you know what's supposed to happen next," Hugo pointed out. "Do you?"

"Ilana's with you?" Caroline asked, and Hugo nodded. "Who else?"

"Um, Sun, Ben, Lapidus, Jack, Miles, and…us." He shrugged. "I guess that's everyone that made it out alive from the Temple. Or didn't go with Locke."

Caroline looked at Richard. "So it's true? Everyone at the Temple is dead?"

Richard nodded. "I went there myself. I assumed you would be there, and when I couldn't find you…" He trailed off, and Caroline wiped a hand over her perspiring forehead.

"I was on Hydra Island."

Both Hugo and Richard frowned.

"Why?" Richard questioned.

"To meet with Charles Widmore."

"Whoa, that dude's _here_?" Hugo asked. "Again? Is he gonna like, try to blow us up?"

"No. But we should probably get going. I'll explain on the way."

Caroline followed Richard and Hugo back in the direction of the beach camp, telling them everything that had happened to her in the past 24 hours. Richard held her hand the entire time, and when she got to the part about seeing Jacob in the jungle, he stopped walking.

"You saw Jacob," he said slowly. "Before he was dead?" At her nod, Richard shook his head. "I don't understand. Why didn't he tell you what was going to happen? We could have done something."

"No. We couldn't have." Caroline put her hand on Richard's arm and started him moving through the jungle again. "That wasn't part of his plan."

She outlined the details of her second meeting with Jacob at the beach, as well as her talk with Charles. In a moment of discretion, she left out her duty to protect Desmond and go to the Arrow. How could she explain those instructions to Richard and Hugo when she couldn't even really explain them to herself?

When she was done, Hugo stayed silent, looking impassive. Richard stepped out in front of both of them and waved his hands, his eyes wild.

"This is it, then," he announced, looking back and forth between Caroline and Hugo. "This solidifies what we're supposed to do."

Caroline felt herself frowning. "What do you mean?"

"We need to stop the Man in Black from leaving the island." He took a step closer to them, stopping them in their tracks. "We have to blow up that plane."

Caroline sighed. "Richard, Charles is—"

But he wasn't listening. He'd started walking again, nearing the beach camp even faster than before. Caroline looked at Hugo, who still looked conflicted. "What the hell was that?"

Hugo heaved a sigh. "Ilana said Jacob told her that Richard would know what to do…you know, now. Well, he didn't so he ran off into the jungle." Hugo paused. "Did you know about Isabella?"

Caroline chest felt tight. "Who is Isabella?"

Hugo's eyes widened and his pace quickened a bit. "Maybe you should just talk to Richard about that."

With a quick hand on his elbow, Caroline slowed Hugo back to his previous pace. "I heard you guys talking in the clearing. Tell me, Hugo."

Looking uncomfortable, Hugo told Caroline what had happened the previous night, and in the clearing before she had arrived. With each word he spoke, Caroline grew more and more uncomfortable. It made sense, of course, that Richard had been married in 1867 – it was a hell of a long time ago, and he was a grown man. But why hadn't he told her? He'd claimed to tell her everything about his arrival on the island on the Black Rock, but he'd never told her why he was on the ship as a slave.

Caroline was surprised that she didn't feel anger or jealousy. All in all, she felt rather calm. More than anything, she found herself feeling remorse for Richard. He'd lost so many people so close to him, and all the time he remained the same, frozen in time, in sadness.

"So then she said that we have to stop the Man in Black from leaving, or we all go to hell," Hugo finished, seemingly blasé about his entire interaction with a woman who had been long buried. "Oh, and she told me you were still alive. I guess because she knew Richard still thought you were dead." He shrugged. "That's probably a good sign, right? Because if she wasn't down with you being, like, her replacement, she could have just let him keep on believing you were dead. Though I guess you would have shown up anyway, but maybe she could have worked something out to kill you. I don't know if dead people can really go that far, though. Who knows?"

Caroline more or less ignored Hugo's rambling. "How much further to your old camp?"

"I don't know, we're pretty close. Ten minutes? Why?"

Caroline started back in the direction they'd been heading. "I'm going to need to speak with Richard."

Richard had reached the camp ahead of them, and was speaking animatedly to the beach survivors. Caroline recognized Ben, Sun, Ilana, and Lapidus, and she had to admit to herself that it was relieving to see some familiar faces.

"We _have_ to destroy it," Richard was insisting as she and Hugo joined the group. He could only mean the plane, and before Caroline could open her mouth to intervene, one of the men she didn't recognize interrupted her.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded. He was Asian, had some interesting facial hair, and Caroline was sure that he wasn't an 815 survivor. She was about to reflect his question back at him with just as much attitude, when she was interrupted again.

"Caroline!" It was Sun who stepped forward to grasp her hands in welcome. Unfortunately, every other word out of her mouth was in Korean.

"Why isn't she speaking English?" Richard asked, motioning towards Sun, who continued to speak urgently to Caroline. Another man shrugged. Caroline had never seen him before, but she knew without a doubt that he was Jack Shephard, a spinal surgeon from LA who had traveled to Australia to retrieve the body of his dead father. Her recollection of Ben's files were almost uncanny sometimes.

"She was hit on the head when she was running away from Locke," Jack said, and Richard looked startled. He started to question Sun insistently, about what Locke had said to her, where he was, where he had gone. This only frustrated Sun more, as she continued to spew Korean at Richard angrily.

"Richard, that's enough," Caroline ordered firmly, a hand on Richard's arm. Sun marched away furiously, still muttering Korean. "It's probably temporary conduction aphasia. If you say she hit her head," she noted, nodding in Jack's direction. He cocked his head.

"Sorry, who are you?"

"I'm Caroline."

"She's an _Other_," Ben interjected sarcastically. "Or so you might say."

"Where've you been?" Lapidus asked Caroline. "We looked for you at the Temple, but…"

Caroline started to tell him she'd never gone to the Temple, but Richard waved his hands anxiously again.

"This isn't important. We know where the plane is, and we know we need to get there and destroy it. I know where we can get dynamite, and I say we go there immediately."

"Not that ship again," Hugo muttered. Richard ignored him.

"I can go alone. I'll make the trip in a few hours, and then we can leave for Hydra Island."

"Richard," Caroline shouted, her hunger, exhaustion, and frustration finally getting the best of her. "Would you just stop and listen to me?" She'd never seen Richard this way, so tense, so frantic, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

Everyone stared at her expectantly. "Widmore already has the plane rigged with explosives."

"Widmore's back?" the Asian man asked, looking concerned. "That's not good."

"I don't trust Charles any further than I can throw him," Richard said firmly. "The plane needs to be destroyed, now, with or without his help."

"Can we wait just a minute?" Jack stood up. "We're not going anywhere without Sun, and she's clearly not convinced just yet. So I recommend we just take a step back until we iron some more details out."

Caroline silently agreed with this plan, and allowed her bag to slip off of her shoulder. She hoped they had something else to eat besides mangos around the camp; she was beginning to lose her taste for them after the last couple of days.

"Fine. You want to wait around until Locke comes back again? Be my guest." Richard stormed off in a huff, and Caroline wondered if she should go after him. Instead, Ilana stepped forward.

"I'll talk to him," she announced. "I think he's right, but everyone needs to be on board for this to work." She looked pointedly at Jack. "Sun trusts you. Talk to her."

Caroline watched Ilana walk away, sinking down to sit on a log next to Ben.

"You look like you've had quite the adventure," Ben remarked dryly. Caroline smirked, surprised to find that she'd actually missed Ben. What was the world coming to?

Later that evening, Richard and Ilana were still discussing the dynamite plan. Lapidus had started a fire, and they had a small supply of fish to cook for dinner. Caroline offered to do the dirty job of gutting and cleaning them, feeling ravenous at the thought of getting to eat one. She sat crosslegged near the fire with the fish, preparing them in somewhat of a daze.

Someone sat down next to her, and she looked up to see Jack.

"Need some help?" he asked, brandishing a knife of his own. Caroline handed him a fish and watched him struggle a bit with the scales. It was clear he wasn't proficient at the task, but she admired his determination if nothing else.

"Are you laughing at me?" he asked suddenly, noticing her smile. Caroline shrugged, tossing aside the bones of the fish in her hand.

"Not at all. It's a practiced art." Jack watched her carefully filet the fish in her hand. "I've been working at it for awhile."

"How long have you been here?"

Caroline glanced out at the darkening ocean as she answered. "I've always been here. I was born on the island."

"What do you know about Richard?" Jack questioned. "Is he…ah, stable?"

Caroline didn't really blame him for questioning Richard's common sense. Not now, anyway. She would have doubted it herself, if he hadn't been who he was.

"I've known Richard my entire life, and he's always been the most stable person in it." Jack looked doubtful, and Caroline smiled. "He's been through a lot in these past few days, Jack. The entire foundation of his faith has been shaken. Any one of us would go a little crazy."

Jack still didn't look convinced, but he didn't say any more. "So, you're medically trained." It was a statement, and Caroline looked at him quizzically. "You knew about Sun's aphasia. Even the correct terminology."

"Oh." Caroline picked up another fish, feeling slightly embarrassed. Her experience in the medical bay at the Dharma barracks felt lifetimes away. "Yeah. My mom was a nurse in the Dharma Initiative, and I kind of followed in her footsteps after the purge." She realized after she'd spoken that Jack probably didn't know what purge she was referring to, but he didn't question her.

"Did you know Juliet?"

At the mention of her friend's name, Caroline looked up, startled. She hadn't thought about Juliet in years, only to hope that she had gotten off the island that day. She'd never heard any other news, and Caroline found it was the safe assumption. "Juliet? Is she okay? Is she here?"

A tangible sadness passed over Jack's face. He set his half-mangled fish aside. Caroline tightened her grip over the knife in her hand, feeling sick to her stomach. "She uh…she didn't make it. She's dead."

Caroline didn't ask what it was that Juliet didn't make it through. She rested her head in her hand and sighed. "So she never got off the island?"

"No."

She stared down at the sand for a long time. "I'm sorry to hear that," she murmured finally. Jack picked the last fish out of the bucket.

"You should probably do this one," he admitted. "I don't think gutting fish is my calling."

Caroline took the fish from him and blinked away tears as she sunk her knife into its belly. She'd lost more friends in the past few years than she'd ever thought possible, and she wasn't even sure if she would make it out of this alive. But life just kept moving on, and Caroline was not exempted from the process. How could she expect a reprieve from death?

In that moment, tears running silently down her cheeks and fish guts everywhere, Caroline vowed that, if nothing else, she was going to help get as many people out of here alive as she possibly could. She wouldn't lose anyone else to the island, even if it meant sacrificing herself.

Sun came back from her seclusion to join them for dinner, but stayed silent. Caroline learned that the Asian man was named Miles, and listened to accounts from him, Hugo, and Jack about the recent experiences they'd had in time travel on the island. She found herself doubtful at first, but she quickly remembered that more had become possible in the last few days than she ever would have believed in before.

More than anything, Caroline was relieved to be in the presence of people again. Despite the generally dire situation they faced, the group managed to maintain a relatively positive attitude, even through Ben and Miles' often acerbic contributions. At one point, Sun left the group to sit by herself at the shoreline, and Caroline felt her heart ache. She had promised Sun she would help her do whatever it took to get back to Jin, and she intended to make good on that vow.

Slowly, the group dispersed, retreating to their various sleeping locations around the beach. Caroline stayed at the fire, rolling grains of sand through her fingers and staring blankly at the flickering flames.

Someone wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, interrupting her reverie. It was Richard, finally without Ilana. He looked relatively calm compared to his earlier state, and his eyes were apologetic as he sat on the sand next to her.

"Are you doing okay?"

"I'm fine. How about you?"

Their conversation sounded awkward and stilted to Caroline's ears. It had never been difficult for her to communicate with Richard. What was going on?

Richard sighed. "I'm sorry, Caroline." He took her hand in his and held it carefully. "I…I just want to get you out of this safely."

Caroline stared at his profile in the dim firelight. "Why didn't you tell me about Isabella?"

He seemed startled, his hand reaching to his neck. Caroline noticed, for the first time, the gold cross on a chain that rested there. He'd never worn it before. "I don't…I don't know."

"I'm not angry," she pointed out. "You could have told me."

"I know," Richard said. "I guess I…I just wanted to keep her to myself. I didn't speak of her for so long. No one knew, except for Jacob."

"How did she die?"

Richard lowered his head and Caroline squeezed his hand reassuringly. "She was…she got sick. It happened so fast, there was nothing we could do. I tried to get medicine for her, but…we couldn't afford it. It happened…so quickly."

"You loved her," Caroline said softly. Richard nodded; his eyes were beginning to fill with tears and reflect the flames.

"I loved her very much. I would have done anything to save her." He looked at Caroline then, as if seeing her for the first time. "I thought I had lost you like I lost her. I was…I was supposed to keep you safe."

"Richard…" Caroline began. He held up his hand to stop her.

"I've lived for a very long time, Caroline. Longer than anyone should have to live. You know that. All this time, I've had her memory buried deep, afraid to bring it to the surface. I thought the work I'd done here could pardon me from my sins, but it can't. I've done things I'm not proud of, and it's all coming back to haunt me." He shook his head. "I can't save her, I can never be with her again. I know that."

"What are you saying?"

Richard sighed heavily. "I'm saying that…you need to get off this island safely. And I haven't figured out how to do that yet, but I promise that I'll make it happen. I know that saving you can't possibly atone for what I've done, but that's not the point." He leaned forward, taking both of her hands in his. "I love you, Caroline, and I _will_ get you off this island. Even…even if it means I have to stay."

"Stop." Caroline pulled her hands out of his grip and clenched her fists. She felt overwhelmed, filled with sadness for his loss, with relief at being near him again, with indignation at his words.

"Richard, I've just spent the last miserable twenty four hours being without you, convinced that you were dead, and that we could never be together. I don't want to feel that again." She steeled her jaw against his undoubted argument. "I won't leave here without you. I'm not…I'm not leaving this island unless we're together."

Richard looked strained. "Caroline, you don't know that we _can_ be together. You don't know that it's even possible for us."

"It is," she insisted. "It is possible because Jacob told me that it was."

"Jacob's dead," Richard replied, and the tone of his voice went straight through Caroline's heart.

"It doesn't matter," Caroline said. "He wouldn't lie."

Richard smiled, but it was a humorless, bitter expression. "I don't know about that, Caroline. He didn't seem to find it pertinent to share much truth with me."

Caroline threw up her hands in forfeit and stood, brushing the sand off her clothing. "Fine. I can't make you believe anything, Richard. Not if you don't want to believe it." She stalked away from the fire, feeling the warmth leave her body as she retreated. Richard didn't follow.

Caroline spent the night by herself, leaning up against a tree at the edge of camp. She fell asleep feeling conflicted and depressed, wishing with all that she had that Jacob would return and give her a better explanation for everything. She dreamt of swimming. When she woke up, her neck aching from the position she'd fallen asleep in, Caroline didn't feel any better.

Everyone else had gathered without her, and as she approached the group, she realized they were having the same conversation from yesterday all over again.

"It's the best plan," Ilana was saying, Richard at her side with his hands on his hips. He hadn't lost that frantic look about him, but at least he looked a little bit more sane. "If we leave for the ship now, we can be back and reach Hydra Island by nightfall."

"Something that you're conveniently leaving out," Miles interjected, "is the fact that we'll all be stranded here on an island, with a monster, after we blow up this plane. Does that really sound like a good idea to you?"

Ilana pursed her lips. "I'm just trying to do my job to protect the candidates."

Her mention of the candidates reminded Caroline of Desmond, and her duty to go to the Arrow hung even heavier on her shoulders. She looked across the group at Richard and felt her heart break a little bit. He had changed in the day they had been apart...there had been a fundamental shift in the confident, collected leader she had always known. Against her will, her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away from the group before anyone could see.

Caroline was staring out at the ocean when a hand landed on her shoulder. She turned to see Richard, his expression cautious. "We're going to the Black Rock, Caroline," he said softly. "Will you go with us?"

Caroline stared at him and shook her head slowly. "No, I won't, Richard."

His touch slipped down her arm to take her hand in his. "I'm doing this for us."

"Are you?" she asked. "Or are you doing it because you're scared?"

Richard blinked at her, his fingers dropping away from hers. "Of...of course I'm scared. Aren't you?"

For once, as old as she knew he was, Richard simply looked to Caroline like a lost, sad, terrified kid, and her heart broke just a little more.

"No." Caroline shook her head slowly, looking back out at the ocean. "I'm not scared, because I know Jacob has a plan. Or had a plan, whichever. I think he always knew this time would come, and he was ready."

Saying it out loud solidified Caroline's belief, and she knew it was time to go. Richard stood still, watching her as she picked up her bag and took a couple of mangoes for the trip.

"Will you be here when I get back?" he asked.

"No," Caroline said. "I have someplace I need to go."

Richard looked at her sadly. "Caroline, I don't want this to be goodbye."

"It's not," she said, forcing a smile. "You have to do what you have to do, and I have to do what I have to do." She took a couple steps closer to him, reaching for his hand again, and repeating his words to her from just a couple days before. "I love you, Richard. No matter what happens."

Richard nodded slowly. "I love you, too. I'll find you."

Caroline nodded back and let go of his hand. "Be careful."

The rest of the group was so preoccupied with preparations for who would stay at the beach and who would go to the Black Rock that they didn't even notice her departure. She was almost to the tree line when Ben caught up with her.

"Where are you going, Caroline?"

Caroline hesitated, considering just moving on as if she hadn't heard him. But there was a note in Ben's voice that worried her. She turned back to him with a sigh.

"The Arrow," she said simply. Ben looked as if he were about to question her, then stopped himself. He glanced back at the rest of the group, before turning to her.

"Can I come?"

Caroline thought this over. She could say no, travel by herself halfway across the island, possibly not even find what she was supposedly looking for, and maybe even get killed in the process. Or, she could take Ben. At least he was somebody to talk to.

"Sure." She re-shouldered her bag. "Are you ready now?"


	21. Chapter 15

**Remember when I said I would update every day until the end...like a month ago? Yeah, sorry about that! Sometimes life really does get in the way. Just the epilogue after this! Let me know how you're liking it. **

**Also - a bit of a note on accuracy here: I'm pretty sure you can't light C4 with a fuse. But I don't know much about explosives in general, and I couldn't quite figure out a way to make the event plausible without it. So, do me a favor and suspend your disbelief during that part of the chapter, please!**

Chapter Fifteen: "The End"

A day and a half later, Caroline found herself face to face with death.

When she was younger, she had never given much thought to death or how she would die. Then, within the span of two years, both of her parents were gone and Caroline was left alone to wonder. People died on the island - not a lot, but it happened. Most people claimed the island had healing properties that extended healthy living. It wasn't really unusual, barring sickness or injury, for someone on the island to live well into their 90s without any problems.

Which left Caroline to wonder - how and when would it happen for her? Would it be unexpected, like her father? Would she have time to prepare and make peace, like her mother?

Now, as she stood before Locke, feeling certain that death was imminent, she felt strangely and fearlessly ambivalent - as if she was floating outside of her body, looking in. She was so preoccupied with this sublimely unusual feeling that she almost didn't hear Locke's aggressive and increasingly impatient questioning.

"Caroline," he was saying, his hand tightening around her throat. "I don't want to kill you. Where is Desmond?"

His thumb rested against her windpipe like unyielding steel. Caroline could almost feel the unbreakable immortality coming off this man, who was not Locke, who was barely a man at all. Darkness swam at the edge of her vision and she welcomed it - if she was unconscious, she couldn't tell him anything. And if he killed her...well...so be it. At least she would have died honorably.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she thought about what got her here in the first place.

_As it turned out, taking Ben along wasn't as good of an idea as Caroline thought it would be. He wasn't much of a conversationalist, especially after the last few days, and he got tired and cranky very quickly._

"So, the Arrow," he said as they walked. "The obvious question...why?"

"Because Jacob told me to," Caroline responded shortly. She'd decided to plot their course close to the beach, right along the tree line, as long as possible before cutting through the jungle. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Richard she wasn't scared, but she also had no desire to rush confrontation. Locke, if he could still be called that, was out there, somewhere, and Caroline had a job to do before he could stop her. 

_"I see," Ben muttered, breathing heavily from a couple feet behind her. "And did he tell you to do this before he died, or after?"_

"After," Caroline replied.

_"Of course. Did you happen to get any other plans from Jacob's ghost?"_

Caroline ignored Ben's caustic tone easily enough. "Just keeping Desmond safe."

"Desmond? Desmond Hume?" Ben sputtered. "He's on the island?"

"It would seem so." Caroline paused to wipe the sweat from her brow and pull a mango out of her bag. She was still sick of the taste (which was odd, as she'd been eating them all her life with no problems up until yesterday) but there was no time to stop and catch a fish. Something told her that Ben was just as bad at fishing as she was. 

_"You don't know for sure?"_

"Well, I haven't seen him yet, so I'm operating on what I've been told."

"And how are you supposed to keep him safe if you don't know where he is?" Ben demanded. Caroline rolled her eyes, starting to get tired of twenty questions and wishing she had just left by herself.

"I don't know, Ben," she said shortly. "I guess I'm hoping he just falls into my lap."

Just as the words left Caroline's mouth, they entered a clearing that seemingly cropped up out of nowhere. The beach wasn't far, but the ground was covered in thick, tall jungle grass. In the middle of the oddly circular clearing stood what looked like an old stone well.

_"What in the world?" Ben murmured from beside her, and Caroline deduced he had never been here, either._

Caroline strode up to the well and peered down into it. As she suspected, the bottom was well-concealed in darkness. She was about to move on, when an odd feeling settled in her chest. It was the same tugging she'd felt both times she'd seen Jacob, and Caroline looked around quickly, almost expecting him to have appeared in the clearing somehow. But they were alone, and the feeling didn't go away. Quickly, she scooped up a rock from the ground and threw it down into the well. A small splash of water resounded back to her, followed by a short groan.

"Is that a...person?" Ben asked, his eyes wide as he stared down into the well. 

_"I don't suppose you have any rope?" Caroline asked, and Ben shot her a look. Caroline leaned over the edge of the well. "Desmond?"_

Another groan was her reply, but that was all the convincing Caroline needed. She set her bag aside and headed for the trees to start stripping vines and flexible branches. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it seemed fairly obvious that she needed to get Desmond out of that well.

To her surprise, Ben helped her without being prompted, braiding the materials together with a knowledgeable deftness. It had been years, really, since Ben had spent any considerable time in the jungle, and Caroline had been sure he'd forgotten all that he'd learned as he'd come to prefer a life of ease in the barracks. Apparently that wasn't true, because between the two of them, they fashioned a rather lengthy, if not rudimentary, rope fairly quickly.

"I'm not sure if it will hold," Ben said as they lowered it down into the well.

"It probably won't," Caroline allowed. "We'll have to be quick."

She called down the well to Desmond again, hoping he was conscious enough to follow her instruction. "This won't hold for very long, so we'll need your help. Are you strong enough to help pull yourself up?"

He didn't answer at first, and Caroline started to think she was going to have to climb down into the well to get him herself. Then, a feeble sounding, "Aye" floated up from the bottom.

_Caroline quickly stripped off her belt and handed it to Ben. "Thread this through yours and I'll put it back on. We'll have more leverage if we combine our weight."_

He did as she suggested without arguing, and Caroline braced her feet up against the edge of the well. "Desmond? We're going to start pulling you up now. Do you have a good grip?"

Another "aye", and Caroline started to pull. In any other situation, it would have been miraculous how well their process worked. But here, on the island, it made perfect sense. It wasn't long before Desmond came into view, wielding a mighty gash on his forehead, but otherwise working hard to climb up the stone wall as Caroline and Ben pulled him to safety. When he was within reach, Caroline leaned down to haul him up by the collar of his shirt. She pulled him out, every muscle in her body screaming with the effort, and he promptly collapsed on top of her and Ben. 

_"Lovely," Ben grunted from beneath her, and Caroline unbuckled her belt to get free before rolling Desmond off of her._

He was conscious, but just barely, and Caroline rummaged in her bag for the alcohol she'd gotten from the Pearl. While she cleaned up the wound on his head, she asked him as many questions as she could to try and ascertain the nature of his injury. Desmond answered all of her questions clearly and correctly, but remained in a very odd state of calm. Though Caroline knew quite a lot about Desmond and his life, she'd only truly interacted with him once - down in the Looking Glass - and he'd been rather frantic in general. Now, perhaps he was concussed, but either way he seemed rather at peace with the whole thing.

_"Do you remember how you got here?" Caroline asked. "And by here, I mean, down a well."_

"Yes," Desmond replied, nodding succinctly. "John Locke pushed me down there."

Caroline and Ben exchanged a glance.

"Of course he did." Caroline got to her feet and helped pull Desmond up to a standing position. "Listen, a lot has happened, and I'd love to explain everything to you. But we're on a bit of a time crunch, and you need to come with us."

Desmond just shrugged. "Alright, then."

Ben gave Caroline a look over Desmond's shoulder, a look that said something along the lines of "this guy is clearly insane, let's leave him here", but Caroline ignored it.

"Great. Um...let's go."

Desmond was a better walking partner than Ben as he seemed fairly content to stay quiet. But Caroline couldn't help but question him - how had Widmore gotten him on the sub? What had he been doing with him on Hydra Island? How had Locke gotten to him? Desmond answered all of her questions easily and noncommittally. He didn't seem affected by anything that had happened to him, which Caroline admitted was slightly unsettling. But she didn't have time to consider Desmond's mental state. She needed to get to the Arrow before the day's end, and the only way to make sure Desmond was safe was to keep him with her as long as possible. 

_The three of them reached the Arrow just before nightfall. Caroline had never been there before, but she knew exactly where to find the hidden door, though its location had seemingly grown a bit more obvious in the past years - especially since a group of 815 survivors had used it as shelter for a good month. Unfortunately, the day wasn't prepared to go as easily as it had before their arrival, because the door was hopelessly jammed shut._

_"So...what exactly are we doing here again?" Ben asked, after watching her spend a good fifteen minutes trying to wrench the door open with her own strength. Desmond stood nearby, hands in his pockets, asking for no explanations whatsoever._

Caroline blew a piece of hair out of her eyes and braced her foot against the edge of the strong metal door. "I don't know what you're doing here, Ben, but I'm trying to get this goddamn door open, in case that isn't obvious enough already."  


_Using all of her weight, Caroline pulled on the door handle until she thought her arms would come out of her sockets. It still didn't budge._

"It's steel," Ben reminded her in his characteristic deadpan.

"I know." Caroline rested her hands on her hips and considered her options. As far as she was concerned, there was only one left, and it was really the very last thing she wanted to do. But they were fast running out of daylight, and she didn't consider the jungle a very safe place to be these days. So she stalked over to her bag, which she'd abandoned a few feet away when they arrived, and removed a neat block of C4 and a spool of fuse.

"Is that...where did you get that?" Ben demanded, watching her with wide eyes as she set the block down next to the door and began unwinding the fuse. 

_"I took it from Widmore's sub," Caroline replied. "I figured it would be a good insurance policy."_

"So you've had this the whole time," Ben said. "Even back at the beach camp when no one could stop arguing about going to harvest unstable dynamite from that death trap of a ship...you had C4 in your bag all along?"

"Yes," Caroline responded simply. "Will you help, please?"

_Ben frowned but took the spool from her anyway, and began laying the fuse as Caroline affixed the end to the blast cap._

"You're a little short," Ben called a few moments later, and Caroline looked up to see him standing just fifteen feet away.

_"I guess we'll have to run, then." She made sure the fuse was attached properly before pulling the matches out of her pocket and standing up. Desmond, who she'd almost forgotten about, stood nearby, watching quietly. "You may want to get a head start," she suggested, motioning towards Ben, who was already striding away quickly. Desmond just smiled at her oddly before following suit. Caroline shook her head, and, locating the end of the fuse that Ben had laid, lit a match._

_She knew from experience how fast the flame traveled, so she took off in the opposite direction at a sprint. Ideally, it was best to be at least 100 feet away from any kind of explosive detonation, but there was no way she could run that fast. _

_She caught up with Ben just as the blast erupted, and managed to give him a shove to the ground before throwing herself down next to him. They made it down just in time to avoid most of the blowback, although Caroline's ears were still ringing as she sat up, wiping the dirt off of her face. Ben sat up with a sigh._

_"Impeccable timing."_

_Caroline glanced up at the darkening sky before getting to her feet and looking around for Desmond. For a moment, he was nowhere, and she panicked. Then, he came striding out of the trees, looking right as rain._

_"He's really starting to creep me out," Ben muttered. Caroline ignored him._

_Thankfully, the explosive did its job, and the Arrow's door was lying on the ground in front of the dark entrance, paving the way. Caroline got a torch together quickly, aided by her recent acquisition of matches, and by the time she had a considerable source of light, Ben and Desmond had come back over to join her._

"Sure you want to go in there?" Ben asked, peering into the blackness uncertainly, and Caroline didn't respond. He already knew the answer.

"Feel free to wait out here," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading for the entrance. Ben glanced around the jungle.

_"I'll take my chances."_

Caroline led the way down the long, dark hallway into the old Dharma hatch. It had been largely abandoned after the Purge, as far as she knew, and she'd had no reason or desire to ever come out into this part of the jungle. The only significance this place held for her was the fact that her father had spent the vast majority of his time on the island here - time he could have spent being with his family, he instead chose to spend holed up in a lonely bunker built into the side of a hill. Caroline's fist clenched on the torch as she walked. The Arrow, in fact, was the last place on the island she ever cared to be. 

_As it turned out, the Arrow didn't have much to offer besides one large room, which was basically empty save for a large metal box. The lid was already open, scoured by the crash survivors, Caroline guessed. She knelt to rifle through the contents, but there wasn't anything inside except for a torn-up Bible and once of Mikhail's glass eyes. _

_"Find what you're looking for?" Ben asked wryly from somewhere behind her. Caroline ignored him and stood to explore the rest of the bunker. But there wasn't anything to be found._

It was warm inside the Arrow, and Caroline paused to wipe the sweat out of her eyes as she scanned the room. Ben was waiting close to the exit, his arms crossed over his waist as he stared down the long hallway anxiously. Desmond was walking the perimeter of the room, unbothered. Caroline bit her lip against a curse towards Jacob. What the hell was she doing there?

Feeling tired and frustrated, Caroline sat down next to the metal box. Ben made an impatient noise.

"Caroline, it's nighttime. We can't stay here," he urged.

"You can go whenever you want," she shot back. "There's a reason I'm here and I'm not leaving till I find it."

Ben glared at her before stalking back out to the jungle. Caroline couldn't have cared less where he went. Although this did leave her alone with Desmond, who was still perusing the hatch with a detached curiosity.

_"Maybe you should check that box," he said suddenly. Caroline craned her neck to look back at him._

"I already did. There's nothing in there."

Desmond smiled. "I lived in one of these bloody hatches for three years. There's always somewhere to hide something."

Caroline frowned at him, but obligingly rose to her knees to check the box again. This time, she ran her fingers carefully along the sides and bottom. She found what she was looking for in the lower right corner - her fingers caught the edge of a seam in the metal. There were no hinges to be seen, but Caroline pulled out her pocket knife to pry up the panel. It wasn't a very large space, just big enough to fit a slim leather-bound book. Caroline pulled it out and took a moment to feel the weight in her hands before opening the cover. 

_There was no name inside or any indication of who the book belonged to, but Caroline recognized her father's handwriting as soon as she flipped through the first few pages. Her heart dropped to her stomach; the book was full of his writing. _

_Suddenly the room filled with dim light, and she looked up to see Desmond standing near a switch on the far side of the room._

"Whad'ya know? Electricity still works," he remarked, hands in his pockets. He nodded at the book. "Find what you're looking for, then?"

Caroline looked back down at the book and nodded. "Yeah, I guess I did." She carefully slipped the book into her bag and rose to her feet. "Desmond, I think you should stay here."

He looked around the empty room, and Caroline rushed to explain before he could question her. "Locke obviously wants to kill you, and it's very important that he doesn't. There's only so much I can do to keep that from happening, so I think it's best if you hide. At least, for a little while."

_Desmond nodded slowly. "Okay, then."_

"You're...fine here?" Caroline confirmed, and he nodded. "Okay. Okay, good."

She left him her canteen and the last of her mangoes, and promised to be back for him. She felt bad leaving him all alone in a dank, abandoned Dharma hatch, but he seemed so unaffected that she couldn't help but shrug it off. The door was still blown off, of course, but Caroline made quick work of concealing the entrance with the mass of hanging vines and nearby branches. Of course, if Locke wanted to find Desmond, certainly even a metal door wasn't going to stop him.

_When she turned around, Ben waited for her a few feet away, looking rather ashen._

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing." Ben shook his head. "Where's your friend?"

_"He's staying here," Caroline said. "It seemed like the safest option."_

_Ben just nodded. "Should we go to the barracks? It's only about an hour's walk."_

It was as good a plan as any, so Caroline fell into step with Ben once again, and they were off.

_"Why Desmond?" Ben asked as they walked. "I mean, why is he here? Why is he...important?"_

Caroline sighed. It seemed Ben would forever be concerned with who was important and why they were more important than him. "He's a failsafe."

"A failsafe?" Ben repeated.

"In case all of the other candidates are killed."

"I see." Ben fell silent for a few moments and Caroline thought perhaps he would let her walk in peace for the rest of the trip. "Did it...make you mad?" he asked suddenly.

_"Did what make me mad?"_

"The whole...candidates reveal. All these years we've been serving Jacob and he never thought to choose one of us?"

Caroline cast her gaze downward. Of course, that had been her first reaction - to feel put out by not receiving Jacob's favor. But she didn't want to tell Ben that.

"I don't know. I guess we were all here for another reason," she said carefully.

_Ben scoffed. "I doubt that very much."_

"Why?" Caroline asked, glancing over at him. The moon had come out and it was light enough that they hadn't needed the torch to see their way. Ben's face looked older and sadder than Caroline had ever seen him.

"I don't think Jacob ever thought any one of us were special," he said. "I think it was all a lie to get us to do whatever he wanted."

Caroline thought of her conversation with Jacob on the beach, which now seemed so long ago. She remembered almost every word of what he'd said to her, and surely she could relay that to Ben. But would he believe it? Probably not. Caroline was slowly learning that it wasn't her job to make anyone believe. She couldn't do it to Richard, or to Ben. They had to choose it all on their own. 

_"Maybe you're right," she said finally. "But I think you're important, Ben."_

He stopped walking, and so did Caroline, a few paces away from him.

"You don't think that," he said.

_"I do," Caroline said, and it was true. "I think you have a very important job to do for the island, and I don't think you've done it yet. So...don't give up. That's all I'm saying."_

_Ben just stared at her, disbelieving. Caroline shrugged and continued walking. Eventually, Ben's footsteps followed._

When they reached the barracks, Caroline felt a wave of emotion sweep over her, almost strong enough to bring her to tears. The houses were all abandoned, of course, as they had been the last time she was there, three years prior. But everything was in a state of decay - the grass and shrubs were overgrown, the fence around the old swing set sagged. She spotted her own house on the far side of the grounds - the door hung off its hinges and the front window was broken. She turned away; she'd already salvaged anything that was of any importance to her back when they'd first left the barracks. 

_"We should probably stick together," Ben suggested. "Power in numbers, right?"_

His tone was sarcastic, and they both knew there was not much they could do to protect themselves should Locke show up and want them dead for any reason.

Caroline followed Ben to his old house, which, all things considered, wasn't in terrible shape. She even found a box of stale Dharma granola bars in the pantry, and promptly ate several.

She took Alex's old room for the night, and once the door was closed and she was alone, she did cry. Partly from exhaustion, partly because she'd convinced herself that the musty pillow on the bed still smelled a little bit like Alex. When she'd finally cried all of the tears she had left, Caroline pulled a small flashlight out of her bag, along with her father's journal, and began to read.

_Caroline stayed up most of the night reading, until her eyes burned and she finally passed out. When she woke up, the flashlight's bulb was near burned out and the cool light of dawn was seeping into the room beneath the curtains._

Ben was already awake when she went out to the kitchen. He stood at the front window, staring out at nothing, and Caroline wondered if he'd even slept at all. She didn't say anything to him, and instead rummaged around in the kitchen for more to eat. There was a half-empty box of Dharma cereal and a few dented cans without labels. She wasn't feeling very adventurous, so she took the cereal.

_"No coffee?" she asked, opening a few cupboards._

"There's tea in the drawer to your right," Ben said.

_Caroline made two cups, even though the water from the tap didn't get very hot, and took one over to Ben. He murmured a thank you but didn't drink any, just held the mug in his hands and kept staring out the window._

Caroline leaned against the counter and sipped at the weak lukewarm tea. "Now what?" she wondered aloud. Ben glanced at her.

"I was hoping you knew."

They stood together in silence for a few minutes and Caroline tried to consider her options. She'd come up with absolutely nothing when Ben spoke again.

"Looks like fate has smiled on you once more," he muttered and turned away from the window to head towards the back of the house. Caroline peered out the kitchen window to see two familiar figures exiting the jungle. 

_She met Richard and Miles on the porch, unable to keep from smiling despite their overall dire situation. Richard took her hands in his and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple._

"Oh, jeez," Miles muttered, still standing at the foot of the steps. "Don't make me regret coming with you, man."

"What happened?" Caroline asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Still on a quest for dynamite," Miles interjected before Richard could speak. "Surprised? I didn't think so."

"Hugo blew up the ship," Richard explained. "I know Ben had a stash of C4 here at one time so...here we are."

Feeling a little disheartened that Richard was still on his mission to destroy the plane, Caroline took a step back.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked. "Jack, Sun, Ilana?"

Miles and Richard exchanged a glance and Caroline knew instantly that at least one of them had died.

"Ilana's dead," Richard said simply. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "She was handling some dynamite, and...that's neither here nor there. It doesn't change the fact that we still need to get to the plane."

Caroline crossed her arms over her waist. "Can you give us a minute, please, Miles?" she asked, and Miles went inside with a shrug. 

_"What?" Richard said, eying her warily._

"Your plan to blow up the plane doesn't seem to be going smoothly," Caroline pointed out. "Doesn't that make you think that maybe this isn't what we should be spending our energy on? Where did everyone else go?"

"With Hugo to try and talk to Locke," Richard said. "Is that what I should have done instead?"

"Maybe," Caroline replied but she knew it wasn't the option she would have chosen.

"Everything that man says is a lie," Richard said vehemently. "Everything. There's no reasoning with the devil, Caroline. You just end up in hell."

Caroline sighed. "Well, either way, I don't think it's safe to stay here. So let's get the C4 and go to Hydra Island. We'll discuss what to do with the plane when we get there." Richard frowned but nodded nonetheless.

"Fine." 

_They stared each other down for a few moments, Caroline with her arms crossed and Richard with his hands on his hips. The last time Caroline had felt this sort of tension with him was on their walk to the statue almost ten years ago. _

_"I missed you," Richard said, his tone still stubborn, and Caroline cracked a small smile._

"I missed you, too. Come on. Ben's inside."

_"You mean you haven't killed him yet?" Richard remarked. "I'm impressed."_

"I think we're actually starting to become friends," Caroline muttered, leading the way into the living room. Ben had re-entered and was glaring at Miles as he rummaged through the pantry.

"We need all the C4 you have," Richard told Ben, who smiled humorlessly.

"Nice to see you too, Richard."

Caroline waited by the window while Ben let Richard into his secret closet and they loaded up on C4.

_"What's wrong?" Miles asked from behind her, his mouth full of Dharma cheerios._

Caroline shook her head, her eyes on the tree line, which was wavering with a non-existent breeze. 

_"I don't think we're alone here."_

After that, time had passed surprisingly quickly. Miles had fled and Richard had gone out to try and speak peaceably with Locke while Caroline stayed on the porch, waiting for something, anything to happen. Then the black smoke had thrown Richard into the air, and Caroline realized he had been right. There was no treaty to be made here; it was kill or be killed, and she was probably next.

The jungle had fallen oddly silent after the smoke disappeared with Richard, and Caroline took a cautious step off the porch, wondering if she should go after it or go inside to warn Ben. That's when Locke had appeared and demanded she tell him where Desmond was.

And now, as Caroline's eyes closed and she began to feel faint, she realized she was at peace with death after all. It made sense, anyway, that she would die here on the island, protecting Desmond. Her life had begun here, and now it was ending here. Full circle.

Before she could continue her journey into blackness, Locke let go of her, and she was on the ground, her vision swimming.

"Stop!" Ben was yelling from somewhere in the distance. "I'll take you to Desmond."

Caroline pushed herself up off the dirt weakly. "Ben, don't."

Both he and Locke ignored her. "You know where he is?" Locke questioned.

Ben nodded. "He's at the Arrow. We hid him there last night."

Caroline closed her eyes.

"Well, that's convenient." Locke turned back to Caroline. "Will you join us? Remember Caroline, you're either with us, or against us."

Caroline sat up to look at him. "Trust me, I'm against you."

Locke narrowed his gaze but didn't make a move towards her. "Good to know." He motioned at Ben. "Shall we?"

Ben didn't look at Caroline again as he led Locke in the direction of the Arrow, and she felt her heart sink. Now Desmond was as good as dead, and she'd failed. What left was there to do?

She'd just gotten to her feet to find Richard when Miles appeared.

"Are you okay?" he shouted, running up to her. "I thought you were dead for sure."

"You were watching?" Caroline rubbed her throat. "Thanks for the hand."

"I was trying to come up with a plan," Miles said, "but I'm not a very quick thinker."

Caroline frowned. "Did you happen to see where Richard ended up from wherever you were hiding?" Miles nodded.

"It looked like somewhere over here."

As it turned out, they didn't have to search too long; Richard was lying on his back, spread-eagle, just beyond the tree line. Caroline knelt beside his head, stroking her hand over his hair as she felt for his pulse. His heartbeat was strong and he was still breathing, just a little beaten up.

"Richard, can you hear me?" She squeezed his shoulder. "It's Caroline."

Richard's eyes opened slowly, looking hazy, but they cleared when his gaze fixed on her. "Caroline?" He reached up to touch her face. "Is it...over? Are we dead?"

"No," Caroline replied, putting her hand over his. "We're not dead."

Richard coughed a little bit and Caroline motioned for Miles' water bottle. She held it to his lips for him and waited as he drank. Finally, Richard laid his head back down and looked up at her.

"Now what?"

Caroline sighed and looked up at Miles, who widened his eyes and shrugged.

"Don't look at _me_."

"I guess...we keep going," she said. "Let's get to Hydra Island. If anything, maybe Charles is still there."

For lack of a better plan, the three of them made their way down towards the dock, hoping there was a boat or two remaining.

"Looks like you were right about negotiating with Locke," Caroline said to Richard as they walked. "Do you think he killed everyone else?"

"No." Richard shook his head. "He needs them to get him off the island. He doesn't kill anyone until he has no use for them anymore."

Caroline wondered silently why he hadn't killed her when he'd had the chance. "Let's hope he feels the same way about Desmond."

"Desmond?" Richard echoed. "Is that where you went with Ben? To find Desmond?"

Caroline realized she'd never filled him in on her meeting with Charles and her orders from Jacob, so she told him. "But I couldn't do it," she finished. "I couldn't keep him safe."

"You did what you could," Richard reminded her, taking her hand in his. "What did you find at the Arrow?"

Caroline reached into her back to pull out her dad's journal. "This. It was my dad's."

Richard examined the cover of the book. "Looks old."

"It is. He started it when he was twenty, even before he went to war. He wrote about everything. I read it all last night," she admitted.

"What did you learn?" Richard asked.

Caroline remembered the feel of the pages between her fingers and the words she read over and over again. "That he did want me. Even though I was a girl. That he loved me, or at least did at one time. That he loved my mom. And that he was sorry."

Richard squeezed her hand. "You read all that in there?"

"I felt it," Caroline replied, taking the book back from him and tucking it into her bag. "I just wish I'd found it earlier."

"I think Jacob knew exactly when you needed to find it," Richard said softly, and Caroline locked eyes with him. He smiled a little bit, and her heart lifted - so he did still believe.

"Hey, we're in luck," Miles called back from ahead of them, pointing down towards the water. There was a single canoe tied to the dock, waiting for them.

As they loaded up and untied the boat, Caroline looked out into the distance at Hydra Island. Dark, threatening storm clouds were beginning to roll in, covering the sun.

"Welcome to the club," Miles said suddenly, and Caroline glanced down to watch him pluck a hair from Richard's head. "Looks like you got your first gray hair."

Richard took the hair from Miles and stared at it, disbelieving. Caroline remembered Jacob's promise that they could be together, and realized he was about to make good on it. She and Richard locked gazes over Miles' head and smiled at each other.

Miles stared between them, confused. "What are you smiling about?"

"I think I just realized I want to live," Richard said slowly, still looking at Caroline.

"Good timing," Miles muttered, starting to climb into the boat.

"This is going to sound a little crazy," Caroline said, "but...what if we don't blow up the plane? What if we...try to fly it?"

"Fly it?" Miles raised his eyebrows at her. "Hate to break it to you, but we'd need Lapidus to do that."

Caroline accepted Richard's helping hand into the boat with a smile.

"_Now_ what are you smiling about?" Miles asked.

Caroline just shook her head. "With the way this day has gone so far, I have a feeling he may just show up."

She looked up at Richard, still on the dock. "What do you say? If we can find Lapidus and get the plane off the ground, will you consider not blowing it up?"

Richard just nodded slowly. "I think that sounds like a plan."

As it turned out, they didn't have to row far before they found Lapidus, miraculously alive, floating in the wreckage of what appeared to be Widmore's sub.

"How did you know he'd be out here?" Miles asked Caroline as they worked to haul Lapidus into the boat.

"I didn't," she said. "Just a guess."

"My lucky day," Lapidus coughed, and Miles passed over a bottle of water that Richard opened for him. "What the hell are you three doing out here?"

"Heading for Hydra Island," Richard said.

Caroline looked up from timing Lapidus' pulse, which was strong and healthy despite floating in the ocean for who knew how long. "Besides a couple bumps and bruises, you're in surprisingly good shape, considering what you've apparently been through."

"What can I say?" Lapidus rasped, tipping his face up to the sun and closing his eyes. "Somebody up there must be lookin' out for me."

Richard and Caroline made eye contact again, and it was if the final puzzle piece was just starting to slip into place. There_ was_ a plan, and it was in motion, and it had been for a long time. They were all a part of it - pawns, maybe, but they each had a duty to fulfill and a purpose. Now, Caroline could see that Richard believed that just as much as she did.

"Frank," she began. "Do you think there's any way possible to repair the Ajira plane and fly us out of here?"

"Sure," Frank replied without hesitation, his eyes opening again. "What are we waiting for? Let's go."


	22. Epilogue

**Okay guys, this is it...the official ending! It only took me three years. Hope you've enjoyed Richard and Caroline's story as much as I have.**

Epilogue

Caroline stared at the display in front of her until her vision blurred. It was official. This was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. Ever.

Finally exhausted, she closed her eyes and reached out in front of her, fingers closing over the first box they touched. Inching one eye open, she inspected the box in her hand. Apple cinnamon. Okay. She could work with that.

Caroline set the box of oatmeal down in her metal shopping cart gingerly, casting one last uncertain glance at the shelf in front of her. Once again, she'd ruminated over the endless options the grocery store offered for far too long. The watch strapped on her wrist, the delicate leather band still stiff with newness, seemed to scream at her, with its ticking hands and blank white face.

Caroline pushed the cart down the remainder of the narrow aisle with a sigh. It seemed as though everywhere she looked, all she wanted to see was the familiar white box with the black logo…but Dharma issue apparently wasn't a standard brand outside of the island. The stuff inside all seemed to be fairly similar, but she still wasn't sure how she was supposed to choose which option was best. Some of the packaging was brightly colored, some boasted little bubbles with phrases like "low fat" and "all natural", and they all had numbers pasted on the shelf directly below them. 3.95, 10.49, 1.99. Caroline could barely make sense of it all.

Her first solo trip to the large building with florescent lighting ("Safeway? What kind of name is _Safeway_?") had nearly given Caroline a panic attack, but she was a bit more comfortable there now. She'd finally managed to figure out what "Express Lane" meant, and she even had a vague idea of which aisles held what foods, even without cheating by looking up at the huge signs that hung over every section.

She had pulled to a stop in front of the dairy case when a shrill ringing knocked her out of her reverie. Pulling her eyes away from the insane amount of cheese in front of her, Caroline searched for the source of the ringing. Finally, she remembered the cell phone she carried with her, and pulled it out of the pocket of her jeans.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

The sound of Richard's voice on the other end relaxed Caroline. She hated carrying the phone around at all times, but loved that communication with him was so readily accessible. "Hey. I'm at the store."

"Still? Caroline, it's been an hour."

Caroline sighed. "I know. This is hard."

"Do you need me to come down and help you?"

"No, I can do it. I think I'm almost done. Do you know what the difference between part skim and whole milk ricotta is?"

"Well, one is made from milk with a lower fat concentration." This didn't help.

"Which kind did we have?" She didn't have to say _on the island_. They tried not to mention the island if possible. It was unspoken but well practiced.

"Probably part skim. It doesn't really matter." Richard cleared his throat. "Look, Caroline…how soon can you get back home?"

"I don't know. Why?" She grabbed the container Richard had indicated and pushed her cart along again. "What's going on?"

"We have, um...a couple of visitors. They wanted to see you before they left."

"Oh. Is it Miles again?" Caroline rolled her eyes as she turned in the direction of the checkout lanes. "Tell him the time it takes to make lasagna is not worth his bottomless pit of a stomach." Since their departure from the island, Miles had been the main survivor (if he could be called that) to keep in touch with them. In fact, he stopped by their apartment at fairly regular intervals, and always unannounced. Caroline didn't really mind, as she saw him to be one last remaining link she had to the island, one last person to assure her that she hadn't dreamed up everything that had happened there.

"No, not Miles. See you at home, Caroline."

The way Richard ended the conversation so abruptly made Caroline nervous.

In the time it took to line her groceries up on the odd little conveyor belt and count out various bills to the bored girl behind the register, Caroline's nerves had only grown increasingly tense about these waiting visitors. Her groceries loaded up in canvas bags, she slung them over each shoulder and exited the store to begin the walk back to the apartment.

Richard knew how to drive a car, of course, though they didn't yet own one. He'd attempted to teach Caroline how to drive multiple times, but she resisted. It was one thing to drive a Dharma van on the dirt roads traversing the island, with only wayward trees as obstacles. It was quite another to navigate the busy streets of Portland, all crisscrossing and right angles and bright green, red, and yellow lights. Her legs worked just fine, and she'd figured out that their apartment was a mere quarter mile from the Safeway. She'd grown up walking much more than that in a day.

A quarter mile on the island was much different than a quarter mile in Portland. First of all, it wasn't really called a quarter mile, but it was called "about three blocks", according to Richard, whatever the hell that meant. The streets were measured in terms of concrete, of sidewalks, not familiar trees passed. Caroline found herself picking out landmarks on the walk regardless. There were red stop signs, bus benches, mailboxes. Occasionally a cat would wander its way out of a wayward bush and startle her. It had been months now, and she was finally getting used to it, the "concrete jungle" as Richard called it. Caroline turned her nose up at the term; there was nothing about this city that remotely resembled a jungle, sadly.

The apartment she and Richard lived in was nothing like the Dharma barracks. It was small, cramped, and housed in a building where identical arrangements stacked themselves on top of and beside each other. The walls were thin enough that Caroline could often hear their neighbors fighting, or smell what they were cooking for dinner. It was certainly not ideal conditions, but Caroline found herself appreciating the small space more and more every day. She could live with the tiny kitchen or the cramped bedroom if it meant sharing that space with Richard.

The apartment was five floors up, and Caroline always took the stairs. There was an easier way, the elevator, but she didn't trust it. Richard had tried to take her down to the basement and show her how it worked, running on weights and greased cables, and it was all very safe. But Caroline chose to opt out nonetheless; she didn't mind the stairs, really.

When Caroline finally arrived at their door, she found it unlocked, and let herself in, unsure what to expect. The very last person she could have possibly imagined stood on the other side.

The grocery bags thumped on the floor as she dropped them near her feet. "Ben?"

He looked so unreal, like an apparition, standing there in her living room. "Hello, Caroline."

He even sounded the same. What the hell was this?

Before she could legitimately begin to freak out, Richard stepped out of the kitchen, two porcelain mugs in hand. Hugo was behind him. Caroline felt herself sway on her feet.

"Caroline!" Before she could fall, Richard was next to her, one arm around her back. Caroline's gaze darted between him, Hugo, now holding all three mugs awkwardly, and Ben, still observing with both hands in his pockets. "Are you alright?"

"What…what's going on?" she demanded, allowing Richard to usher her the rest of the way into the apartment. She leaned heavily against the console table while Richard picked up the grocery bags.

"We didn't mean to overwhelm you like this," Hugo pointed out, setting the mugs down on their dining room table carefully. "Though I guess there was really no way, uh…not to."

Richard helped Caroline to the couch and motioned Hugo over with one of the mugs.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, staring blankly at Hugo and Ben. "We thought you were dead."

She could still remember the feeling of taking off in that jimmy-rigged plane, the feeling of leaving behind everything and everyone she had ever known still fresh in her mind. Seeing Kate, Claire and James run out of the jungle to flag them down before takeoff had been somewhat of a relief, but she had abandoned everybody else left behind to death. That went without saying.

"Nope, not dead." Hugo handed her one of the cups and Caroline held it in her hands carefully, taking comfort from the warmth that radiated through the porcelain. Richard sat down next to her and Hugo took a seat on the shabby looking blue armchair across from the couch. They'd gotten most of their furnishings from a place Richard called the "secondhand store". Caroline didn't understand what having a second hand had to do with old furniture.

"Actually, uh…" Hugo glanced at Ben who hovered next to the chair he sat in. Caroline realized for the first time how different they looked. The last time she'd seen either of them, they'd been covered in days worth of dirt and dried blood. Now, they looked clean and well-dressed, well-fed.

"Hugo is the new Jacob," Ben supplied, simply and succinctly as always. Caroline felt her eyes widen and she glanced at Richard. He nodded.

"So you're still…living on the island?"

"Yep." Hugo shrugged. Caroline must have looked horrified because he chuckled. "It's not so bad, really."

Ben glanced at his watch and nudged Hugo's shoulder. Hugo cleared his throat. "Uh, I guess we better cut to the chase."

Caroline looked again at Richard for help but his eyes were focused on the threadbare carpet.

"Look, we want you guys to come back," Hugo said plainly. "No one knows the island like either of you do. You'd be a huge help to us."

"We're hoping you'll at least consider," Ben added.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Hugo said. "And, well, we kinda need a quick decision. But...the island needs you guys. We need you guys."

Caroline blinked, feeling as though Hugo was speaking a different language. It took a few moments for his offer to sink in, the words swirling around in her brain ever so slowly. Go back to the island? Together? She thought very carefully about the prospect.

Months ago, Caroline would have killed to go back to the island. It was, after all, her birthplace, and the only thing she knew. Portland, no matter how hard it tried, would never be her home. The beach here was pitiful - the Pacific ocean was far too cold to swim in and the sand wasn't sand at all, it was little pebbles that poked her feet as she walked. She couldn't go anywhere in the city that was completely quiet, nowhere she could gather her thoughts. There was nothing about this place that begged her to stay.

Richard was still staring down at the carpet, and when she touched his elbow, he looked over at her, the look in his eyes both wary and sheepish.

"Did you know what they wanted?" she asked plainly, and he nodded.

"I wanted them to ask you to your face," he said. "I couldn't guess how you'd react."

Caroline set her tea cup down on the coffee table and turned fully in her seat to face Richard. She was aware that Hugo and Ben still sat with them, waiting for an answer, but she didn't care.

"Do you want to go back?" she asked, her tone neutral. Richard's eyebrows drew together in the way they did when he was thinking hard about something.

"I want to go wherever you want to go," he said, putting his hand on her knee. "Really. I know you hate Portland. If you want to go back, let's go back." He cast a quick glance at their visitors. "It'll be different. But...it is our home."

Caroline thought about his words. Was the island her home? It was her birthplace, where she had grown up, where she had become the woman she was today. But it wasn't her home. Richard was her home. Home was lying in bed next to him at night, wide awake, watching him sleep, counting the gray hairs that seemed more numerous every day, the tiny wrinkles around his eyes.

And...Caroline knew that now was the time, even if it wasn't what she had originally planned. She took Richard's hand off her knee and entwined her fingers with his.

"We can't go back," she said, turning to Hugo and Ben. "There's a part of me that really wants to, and I'm sorry to turn down your offer. But there's another part of me, a newer part, a more important part. A part that I need to put first." She watched Hugo's eyes widen with understanding and turned to Richard, who was still staring at her dumbly. She took his hand and placed it, palm down, on her stomach. "This wasn't exactly how I wanted to tell you, but...Richard. I'm pregnant."

Richard stared down at his hand on her stomach for what felt like eternity. Hugo and Ben didn't say a word or move a muscle. Caroline watched him process this new information, her heart beating steadily and growing with love for this man and the child they had made.

Finally, Richard moved, scooting towards her on the couch and placing his other hand on her belly.

"You are?" he asked softly. "Are you certain?"

"Yes." Caroline beamed. "I walked to the drugstore and bought a pregnancy test, all by myself. The pharmacist explained to me how they work."

Richard looked up at her, his eyes softening, and he pulled her into his arms.

"I'm so...I'm so..." It was rare that Richard was at a loss for words, and Caroline pressed her hands against his back.

"So, what?"

"So...happy," he breathed finally, and Caroline closed her eyes, tightening her arms around him to stifle the hysterical laughter that threatened to come forth.

Richard was touching her stomach again, marveling at the thought of new life already growing inside of her, when Ben cleared his throat.

"Well." He set his hands on his knees and nodded. "Can't say we didn't try."

They stood to leave, and Caroline followed suit. "I'm sorry. I really am. If you had showed up here six months ago...I probably would have begged you to take us with you."

"Hey, no worries," Hugo said, a wide smile spreading across his face. "You two have much more important things in your future."

Caroline and Richard walked Ben and Hugo to the door. "What will you do here?" Ben asked Richard. "Will you stay in the city?"

"I don't know," Richard admitted, glancing down at Caroline. "For now, Mittelos Bioscience is still an active company with many employees, the majority of which don't know anything about what happened on the island. There are still so many of us...still manned Dharma stations all over the country, all over the world."

"Yeah, about that." Hugo sighed. "We're not quite sure how to, uh...handle it."

"What do you mean?" Richard asked.

"We were planning on shutting all the stations down," Hugo said. "We're, uh, running things a bit differently than Jacob did. We figure the best way to do it is to only bring people to the island who actually want to be there. So all of the Dharma junk...well, we don't really need it."

Ben leaned in to whisper something in Hugo's ear.

"Maybe we still have a job for you after all." Hugo turned back to Richard. "If you want it, that is. What do you say you shut down all the stations for us? Go place to place and release the workers?"

Richard and Caroline exchanged a glance, and she nodded slightly. "I think we could probably make that work," Richard said. He and Hugo shook hands.

"Great. Well, we'll be in touch." He turned to Caroline. "Congratulations, Caroline."

She smiled. "Thank you, Hugo."

Hugo exited first, and Ben hesitated at the door, finally turning back to Caroline.

"Thank you," he said, "for telling me I had a job to do. For reminding me I had a purpose."

Caroline nodded. "You're welcome, Ben."

Ben nodded back. "Goodbye."

Richard waited until the door was shut behind them to turn back to Caroline. "What was that about?"

She waved her hand. "Just...Ben." She held her hands over her stomach, which had only just started to round out. "You're really happy about it?"

"I couldn't imagine being any happier." Richard pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth. "How long have you known?"

"About a week," she admitted. "It's been so hard to keep it a secret, but I was going to tell you tonight at dinner. That's why I took so long at the store, I wanted everything to be perfect."

"Everything already is perfect," Richard said. He smoothed his hand over her hair and pulled back to look her in the eyes. "You're sure you don't want to go back to the island? There are ways, you know. You could carry to term and deliver here with no complications."

"I know," she said. "But I want to start fresh. I want to be a good mom, a normal mom."

"I don't know if I'll be a good dad," Richard warned. "I don't even really remember mine."

"You'll be an amazing dad." She smoothed her hands over the lapels of his shirt, straightening his collar. "Did you...want kids? Before, I mean, with...Isabella?"

Richard covered her hands with his. "I don't know. I know we had at least discussed it, but she got sick so soon after we were married. After coming to the island, I never thought...it was never a possibility for me."

They stood together in silence for a few moments.

"Do you still miss her?" Caroline asked softly. Richard smiled sadly.

"A little bit," he said. "Sometimes."

"I like the name Isabella," Caroline said, "for a girl."

Richard's eyes lit up. "You would do that?"

Caroline nodded. "If you want."

"That would be nice." He smoothed his hand over her hair. "Would you like some help making dinner? It can still be perfect, even if I've already heard your announcement."

They worked side-by-side in the kitchen, Caroline stirring tomato sauce while Richard layered lasagna noodles. She thought about her life while she stirred, her life on the island and now her life here. She thought about everyone she had known and lost, her father, her mother, Jacob. She thought about the things she might do differently if she could go back. But she knew that, even if she could, she wouldn't.

Richard looked up from laying the lasagna noodles, catching her watching him, and smiled. She smiled back.

Caroline had many memories, and no regrets.


End file.
